■ 

: 


UC-NRLF 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  LIFE  SERIES— No.  2 


M 

I 

4 

1 

i 
I 

3 


i 


i 


THE 

LIFE  AFTER 

DEATH 

AND 

HOW  THEOSOPHY 

UNVEILS  IT 


^ 


BY 


C. 


W.|j-.EADBEATER 


With  an  Additional  Ct--     - 
*  ^  Thoughts  abe  T:itn«js,  ' 
ANNIE    BESANT 


PRICE  25  CENTS 


THE  THEOSOPHICAL  SOCIETY 


OBJECTS 

1. — To  form  a  nucleus  of  the  Universal  Brotherhood  of  Hu- 
manity, without  distinction  of  race,  creed,  sex,  caste  or  color. 

2. — To  encourage  the  study  of  comparative  religion,  philosophy 
and  science. 

3. — To  investigate  unexplained  laws  of  nature  and  the  powers 
latent  in  man. 


The  Theasophical  Society  is  composed  of  students,  belonging 
to  any  religion  in  the  world  or  to  none,  who  are  urited  by  their 
approval  of  the  above  objects,  by  their  wish  to  remove  religious 
antagonisms  and  to  draw  together  men  of  good  will,  whatsoever 
their  religious  opinions,  and  by  their  desire  to  study  religious  truths 
and  to  share  the  results  of  their  studies  with  others.  Their  bond 
of  union  is  not  the  profession  of  a  common  belief,  but  a  common 
search  and  aspiration  for  Truth.  They  hold  that  Truth  should  be 
sought  by  study,  by  reflection,  by  purity  of  life,  by  devotion  to 
high  ideals,  and  they  regard  Truth  as  a  prize  to  be  striven  for,  not 
as  a  dogma  to  be  imposed  by  authority.  They  consider  that  belief 
should  be  the  result  of  individual  study  or  intuition,  and  not  its 
antecedent,  and  should  rest  on  knowledge,  not  on  assertion.  They 
extend  tolerance  to  all,  even  to  the  intolerant,  not  as  a  privilege 
they  bestow,  but  as  a  duty  they  perform,  and  they  seek  to  remove 
ignorance,  not  to  punish  it.  They  see  every  religion  as  an  ex- 
pression of  the  Divine  Wisdom,  and  prefer  its  study  to  its  con- 
demnation, and  its  practice  to  proselytism.  Peace  is  their  watch- 
word, as  Truth  is  their  aim. 

Theosophy  is  the  body  of  truths  which  forms  the  basis  of  all 
religions,  and  which  cannot  be  claimed  as  the  exclusive  possession 
of  any.  It  offers  a  philosophy  which  renders  life  intelligible,  and 
which  demonstrates  the  justice  and  the  love  which  guide  its  evolu- 
tion. It  puts  death  in  its  rightful  place,  as  a  recurring  incident 
in  an  endless  life,  opening  the  gate-way  of  a  fuller  and  more 
radiant  existence.  It  restores  to  the  world  the  Science  of  the 
Spirit,  teaching  man  to  know  the  Spirit  as  himself,  and  the  mind 
and  body  as  his  servants.  It  illuminates  the  scriptures  and  doc- 
trines of  religions  by  unveiling  their  hidden  meanings,  and  thus 
justifying  them  at  the  bar  of  intelligence,  as  they  are  ever  justified 
in  the  eyes  of  intuition. 

Members  of  the  Theosophical  Society  study  these  truths,  and 
Theosophists  endeavor  to  live  them.  Every  one  willing  to  study, 
to  be  tolerant,  to  aim  high,  and  to  work  perseveringly,  is  welcomed 
as  a  member,  and  it  rests  with  the  member  to  become  a  true  The- 
osophist. 


ZL, '    »     ) 


TKE  MIDDLE  OF  LIFE  SEilES-^Noi  e'  >,,:',,,  : 


THE  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH 


AND  HOW  THEOSOPHY 
UNVEILS  IT 


By  C.  W.  JjEADBEATER 


4r  / 


WITH    AN    ADDITIONAL    CHAPTER 
ON      "THOUGHTS     ARE     THINGS," 
By    Annie    Besant 


Theosophical  Publishing  House 

Krotona 
Hollywood,  Los  Angeles,  Cal. 

Beprinted  1918 


PUBLISHER'S  NOTE. 


The  following  chapters  are  reprinted,  with  kind 
permission,  from  pamphlets  issued  by  The  Theosophical 
Publishing  Committee,  of  Harrogate,  and  from  an  article 
in  Lucifer  for  September,  1896.  The  reception  given  to 
the  first  of  this  Series,  ' '  The  Eiddle  of  Life,  ' '  of  which 
30,000  copies  have  now  been  printed,  leads  us  to  think  that 
the  present  booklet,  which  gives  a  rational  picture  of  the 
actual  facts  of  the  after  life,  will  be  warmly  welcomed. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Is  There  Any  Certain  Knowledge? 1 

IL  The  True  Facts 5 

III.  Purgatory 10 

IV.  The  Heaven-World 19 

V.  Many  Mansions 26 

VI.  Our  Friends  in  Heaven. 31 

VII.  Guardian  Angels 37 

VIII.  Human  Workers  in  the  Unseen 43 

IX.  Helping  the  Dead 49 

X.  Thoughts  are   Things 53 


490.270 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


NO.  PAGE 

i.  A   Noble   Thought Frontispiece 

ii.  Devotional  Feeling 12 

iii.  Intense  Devotion 12 

iv.  Affection   28 

V.  Deep  Love 28 

vi.  Pure   Eeason 44 

vii.  Ambition   44 


CHAPTER   I. 

IS  THERE  ANY  CERTAIN  KNOWLEDGE? 

This  subject  of  life  after  death  is  one  of  great  inter- 
est to  all  of  us,  not  only  because  we  ourselves  must  cer- 
tainly one  day  die,  but  far  more  because  there  can 
scarcely  be  any  one  among  us,  except  perhaps  the  very 
young,  who  has  not  lost  (as  we  call  it)  by  death  some 
one  or  more  of  those  who  are  near  and  dear  to  us.  So  if 
there  be  any  information  available  with  regard  to  the 
life  after  death,  we  are  naturally  very  anxious  to  have  it. 

But  the  first  thought  which  arises  in  the  mind  of  the 
man  who  sees  such  a  title  as  this  is  usually  ^*Can  any- 
thing be  certainly  known  as  to  life  after  death?"  We 
have  all  had  various  theories  put  before  us  on  the  sub- 
ject by  the  various  religious  bodies,  and  yet  even  the 
most  devoted  followers  of  these  sects  seem  hardly  to  be- 
lieve their  teachings  about  this  matter,  for  they  still 
speak  of  death  as  *^the  king  of  terrors,"  and  seem  to 
regard  the  whole  question  as  surrounded  by  mystery 
and  horror.  They  may  use  the  term  ^^  falling  asleep  in 
Jesus,"  but  they  still  employ  the  black  dresses  and 
plumes,  the  horrible  crepe  and  the  odious  black-edged 
note-paper,  they  still  surround  death  with  all  the  trap- 
pings of  woe,  and  with  everything  calculated  to  make  it 
seem  darker  and  more  terrible.  We  have  an  evil  hered- 
ity behind  us  in  this  matter;  we  have  inherited  these 
funereal  horrors  from  our  forefathers,  and  so  we  are 
used  to  them,  and  do  not  see  the  absurdity  and  mon- 
strosity of  it  all.  The  ancients  wei*e  in  this  respect  wiser 
than  we,  for  they  did  not  associate  all  these  nightmares 
of  gloom  with  the  death  of  the  body — partly  perhaps 
because  they  had  a  so  much  more  rational  method  of 
disposing  of  the  body — a  method  which  was  not  only 


<\:         THB  ill^E :  AFTER  DEATH 

infiiiil!e|y;  tetter  f or  t]|^\(iea(}  man  and  more  healthy  for 
the  living,  but  was  also  free  from  the  gruesome  sug- 
gestions connected  with  slow  decay.  The'y  knew  much 
more  about  death  in  those  days,  and  because  they  knew 
more  they  mourned  less. 

The  first  thing  that  we  must  realize  about  death  is 
that  it  is  a  perfectly  natural  incident  in  the  course  of 
our  life.  That  ought  to  be  obvious  to  us  from  the  first, 
because  if  we  believe  at  all  in  a  God  who  is  a  loving 
Father  we  should  know  that  a  fate  which,  like  death, 
comes  to  all  alike,  cannot  have  in  it  aught  of  evil  to  any, 
and  that  whether  we  are  in  this  world  or  the  next  we 
must  be  equally  safe  in  His  hands.  This  consideration 
alone  should  have  shown  us  that  death  is  not  something 
to  be  dreaded,  but  simply  a  necessary  step  in  our  evolu- 
tion. It  ought  not  to  be  necessary  for  Theosophy  to 
come  among  Christian  nations  and  teach  that  death  is 
a  friend  and  not  an  enemy,  and  it  would  not  be  necessary 
if  Christianity  had  not  so  largely  forgotten  its  own  best 
traditions.  It  has  come  to  regard  the  grave  as  **the 
bourne  from  which  no  traveller  returns, '^  and  the  pas- 
sage into  it  as  a  leap  in  the  dark,  into  some  awful  un- 
known void.  On  this  point,  as  on  many  others,  Theoso- 
phy has  a  gospel  for  the  western  world;  it  has  to  an- 
nounce that  there  is  no  gloomy  impenetrable  abyss  be- 
yond the  grave,  but  instead  a  world  of  light  and  life, 
which  may  be  known  to  us  as  clearly  and  fully  and  ac- 
curately as  the  streets  of  our  own  city.  We  have  created 
the  gloom  and  the  horror  for  ourselves,  like  children 
who  frighten  themselves  with  ghastly  stories,  and  we 
have  only  to  study  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  all  these 
artificial  clouds  will  roll  away  at  once.  Death  is  no 
darksome  king  of  terrors,  no  skeleton  with  a  scythe  to 
cut  short  the  thread  of  life,  but  rather  an  angel  bearing 
a  golden  key,  with  which  he  unlocks  for  us  the  door  into 
a  fuller  and  higher  life  than  this. 

But  men  will  naturally  say  ^^This  is  very  beautiful 
and  poetical,  but  how  can  we  certainly  know  that  it  is 


IS  THERE  ANY  CERTAIN  KNOWLEDGE? 

really  so?"  You  may  know  it  in  many  ways;  there  is 
plenty  of  evidence  ready  to  the  hand  of  any  one  who  will 
take  the  trouble  to  gather  it  together.  Shakespeare's 
statement  is  really  a  remarkable  one  when  we  consider 
that  ever  since  the  dawn  of  history,  and  in  every  country 
of  which  we  know  anything,  travellers  have  always  been 
returning  from  that  bourne,  and  showing  themselves  to 
their  fellow-men.  There  is  any  amount  of  evidence  for 
such  apparitions,  as  they  have  been  called.  At  one  time 
it  was  fashionable  to  ridicule  all  such  stories;  now  it  is 
no  longer  so,  since  scientitic  men  like  Sir  William 
Crookes,  the  discoverer  of  the  metal  thallium  and  the 
inventor  of  Crooke's  radiometer;  and  Sir  Oliver  Lodge, 
the  great  electrician,  and  eminent  public  men  like  Mr. 
Balfour,  the  late  Premier  of  England,  have  joined  and 
actively  worked  with  a  society  instituted  for  the  investi- 
gation of  such  phenomena.  Read  the  reports  of  the  work 
of  that  Society  for  Psychical  Research,  and  you  will  see 
something  of  the  testimony  which  exists  as  to  the  return 
of  the  dead.  Read  books  like  Mr.  Stead's  **Real  Ghost 
Stories,"  or  Camille  Flammarion's  ^^L'lnconnu,"  and 
you  will  find  there  plenty  of  accounts  of  apparitions, 
showing  themselves  not  centuries  ago  in  some  far-away 
land,  but  here  and  now  among  ourselves,  to  persons  still 
living,  who  can  be  questioned  and  can  testify  to  the 
reality  of  their  experiences. 

Another  line  of  testimony  to  the  life  after  death  is 
the  study  of  Modern  Spiritualism.  I  know  that  many 
people  think  that  there  is  nothing  to  be  found  along 
that  line  but  fraud  and  deception ;  but  I  can  myself  bear 
personal  witness  that  this  is  not  so.  Fraud  and  decep- 
tion there  may  have  been — nay,  there  has  been — in  cer- 
tain cases ;  but  nevertheless  I  fearlessly  assert  that  there 
are  great  truths  behind,  which  may  be  discovered  by  any 
man  who  is  willing  to  devote  the  necessary  time  and  pa- 
tience to  their  unfolding.  Here  again  there  is  a  vast 
literature  to  be  studied,  or  the  man  who  prefers  it  may 
make  his  investigations  for  himself  at  first-hand  as  I  did. 


THE   LIFE   AFTEB  DEATH 

Many  men  may  not  be  willing  to  take  that  trouble  or 
to  devote  so  much  time;  very  well,  that  is  their  affair, 
but  unless  they  will  examine,  they  have  no  right  to  scoff 
at  those  who  have  seen,  and  therefore  know  that  these 
things  are  true. 

A  third  line  of  evidence,  which  is  the  one  most  con- 
mending  itself  to  Theosophical  students,  is  that  of  di- 
rect investigation.  Every  man  has  within  himself  latent 
faculties,  undeveloped  senses,  by  means  of  which  the 
unseen  world  can  be  directly  cognized,  and  to  any  one 
who  will  take  the  trouble  to  evolve  these  powers  the 
whole  world  beyond  the  grave  will  lie  open  as  the  day. 
A  good  many  Theosophical  students  have  already  un- 
folded these  inner  senses,  and  it  is  the  evidence  thus  ob- 
tained that  I  wish  to  lay  before  you.  I  know  very  well 
that  this  is  a  considerable  claim  to  make — a  claim  which 
would  not  be  made  by  any  minister  of  any  church  when 
he  gave  you  his  version  of  the  states  after  death.  He 
will  say,  '  ^  The  church  teaches  this, ' '  or  *  ^  The  Bible  tells 
us  so,"  but  he  will  never  say,  ^^I  who  speak  to  you,  I 
myself  have  seen  this,  and  know  it  to  be  true."  But  in 
Theosophy  we  are  able  to  say  to  you  quite  definitely  that 
many  of  us  know  personally  that  of  which  we  speak,  for 
we  are  dealing  with  a  definite  series  of  facts  which  we 
have  investigated,  and  which  you  yourselves  may  inves- 
tigate in  turn.  "We  offer  you  what  we  know,  yet  we  say 
to  you  ^^  Unless  this  commends  itself  to  you  as  utterly 
reasonable,  do  not  rest  contented  with  our  assertion; 
look  into  these  things  for  yourselves  as  fully  as  you  can, 
and  then  you  will  be  in  a  position  to  speak  to  others  as 
authoritatively  as  we  do, ' '  But  what  are  the  facts  which 
are  disclosed  to  us  by  these  investigations? 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  TRUE  FACTS. 

The  state  of  affairs  found  as  actually  existing  is  much 
more  rational  than  most  of  the  current  theories.  It  is 
not  found  that  any  sudden  change  takes  place  in  man  at 
death,  or  that  he  is  spirited  away  to  some  heaven  beyond 
the  stars.  On  the  contrary  man  remains  after  death 
exactly  what  he  was  before  it — the  same  in  inteEect,  the 
same  in  his  qualities  and  powers;  and  the  conditions  in 
which  he  finds  himself  are  those  which  his  own  thoughts 
and  desires  have  already  created  for  him.  There  is  no 
reward  or  punishment  from  outside,  but  only  the  actual 
result  of  what  the  man  himself  has  done  and  said  and 
thought  while  here  on  earth.  In  fact,  the  man  makes  his 
bed  during  earth-life  and  afterwards  he  has  to  lie  on  it. 

This  is  the  first  and  most  prominent  fact — that  we 
have  not  here  a  strange  new  life,  but  a  continuation  of 
the  present  one.  We  are  not  separated  from  the  dead, 
for  they  are  here  about  us  all  the  time.  The  only  sepa- 
ration is  the  limitation  of  our  consciousness,  so  that  we 
have  lost,  not  our  loved  ones,  but  the  power  to  see  them. 
It  is  quite  possible  for  us  so  to  raise  our  consciousness, 
that  we  can  see  them  and  talk  with  them  as  before,  and 
all  of  us  constantly  do  that,  though  we  only  rarely  re- 
member it  fully.  A  man  may  learn  to  focus  his  con- 
sciousness in  his  astral  body  while  his  physical  body  is 
still  awake,  but  that  needs  special  development,  and  in  the 
case  of  the  average  man  would  take  much  time.  But  dur- 
ing the  sleep  of  his  physical  body  every  man  uses  his 
astral  vehicle  to  a  greater  or  less  extent,  and  in  that  way 
we  are  daily  with  our  departed  friends.  Sometimes  we 
have  a  partial  remembrance  of  meeting  them,  and  then 
we  say  we  have  dreamt  of  them;  more  frequently  we 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

have  no  recollection  of  such  encounters  and  remain 
ignorant  that  they  have  taken  place.  Yet  it  is  a  definite 
fact  that  the  ties  of  affection  are  still  as  strong  as  ever, 
and  so  the  moment  the  man  is  freed  from  the  chains  of 
his  physical  encasement  he  naturally  seeks  the  company 
of  those  whom  he  loves.  So  that  in  truth  the  only 
change  is  that  he  spends  the  night  with  them  instead  of 
the  day,  and  he  is  conscious  of  them  astrally  instead  of 
physically. 

The  bringing  through  of  the  memory  from  the  astral 
plane  to  the  physical  is  another  and  quite  separate  con- 
sideration, which  in  no  way  affects  our  consciousness  on 
that  other  plane,  nor  our  ability  to  function  upon  it  with 
perfect  ease  and  freedom.  Whether  you  recollect  them 
or  not,  they  are  still  living  their  life  close  to  you,  and 
the  only  difference  is  that  they  have  taken  off  this  robe 
of  flesh  which  we  call  the  body.  That  makes  no  change 
in  them,  any  more  than  it  makes  a  change  in  your  per- 
sonality when  you  remove  your  overcoat.  You  are 
somewhat  freer,  indeed,  because  you  have  less  weight  to 
carry,  and  precisely  the  same  is  the  case  with  them.  The 
man's  passions,  affections,  emotions,  and  intellect  are 
not  in  the  least  affected  when  he  died,  for  none  of  these 
belong  to  the  physical  body  which  he  has  laid  aside.  He 
has  dropped  this  vesture  and  is  living  in  another,  but  he 
is  still  able  to  think  and  to  feel  just  as  before. 

I  know  how  difficult  it  is  for  the  average  mind  to 
grasp  the  reality  of  that  which  we  cannot  see  with  our 
physical  eyes.  It  is  very  hard  for  us  to  realize  how  very 
partial  our  sight  is — to  understand  that  we  are  living  in 
a  vast  world  of  which  we  see  only  a  tiny  partX  Yet 
science  tells  us  with  no  uncertain  voice  that  this  is  so, 
for  it  describes  to  us  whole  worlds  of  minute  life  of 
whose  very  existence  we  should  be  entirely  ignorant  as 
far  as  our  senses  are  concerned.  Nor  are  the  creatures 
of  those  worlds  unimportant  because  minute,  for  upon  a 
knowledge  of  the  condition  and  habits  of  some  of  those 
microbes  depends  our  ability  to  preserve  health,  and  in 

6 


THE  TEUE  FACTS. 

many  cases  life  itself.  But  our  senses  are  limited  in 
another  direction.  We  cannot  see  the  very  air  that  sur- 
rounds us ;  our  senses  would  give  us  no  indication  of  its 
existence,  except  that  when  it  is  in  motion  we  are  aware 
of  it  by  the  sense  of  touch.  Yet  in  it  there  is  a  force 
that  can  wreck  our  mightiest  vessels  and  throw  down 
our  strongest  buildings.  You  see  how  all  about  us  there 
are  mighty  forces  which  yet  elude  our  poor  and  partial 
senses;  so  obviously  we  must  beware  of  falling  into  the 
fatally  common  error  of  supposing  that  what  we  see  is 
all  there  is  to  see. 

We  are,  as  it  were,  shut  up  in  a  tower,  and  our  senses 
are  tiny  windows  opening  out  in  certain  directions.  In 
many  other  directions  we  are  entirely  shut  in,  but  clair- 
voyance or  astral  sight  opens  for  us  one  or  two  addition- 
al windows,  and  so  enlarges  our  prospect,  and  spreads 
before  us  a  new  and  wider  world,  which  is  yet  part  of 
the  old  one,  though  before  we  did  not  know  of  it. 

Looking  out  into  this  new  world,  what  should  we 
first  see?  Supposing  that  one  of  us  transferred  his  con- 
sciousness to  the  astral  plane,  what  changes  would  be  the 
first  to  strike  him?  To  the  first  glance  there  would 
probably  be  very  little  difference,  and  he  would  suppose 
himself  to  be  looking  upon  the  same  world  as  before. 
Let  me  explain,  to  you  why  this  is  so — partially  at  least, 
for  to  explain  fully  would  need  a  whole  treatise  upon 
astral  physics*  Just  as  we  have  different  conditions  of 
matter  here,  the  solid,  the  liquid,  the  gaseous,  so  are  there 
different  conditions  or  degrees  of  density  of  astral  mat- 
ter, and  each  degree  is  attracted  by  and  corresponds  to 
that  which  is  similar  to  it  on  the  physical  plane.  So  that 
your  friend  would  still  see  the  walls  and  the  furniture 
to  which  he  was  accustomed,  for  though  the  physical 
matter  of  which  they  are  composed  would  no  longer  be 
visible  to  him,  the  densest  type  of  astral  matter  would 
still  outline  them  for  him  as  clearly  as  ever.     True,  if 

^Fuller  details  on  this  may  be  found  in  my  ''The  Other  Side  of 
Death.''. 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

he  examined  the  object  closely  he  would  perceive  that 
all  the  particles  were  visibly  in  rapid  motion,  instead  of 
only  invisibly,  as  is  the  case  on  this  plane ;  but  very  few 
men  do  observe  closely,  and  so  a  man  who  dies  often  does 
not  know  at  first  that  any  change  has  come  over  him. 

He  looks  about  him,  and  sees  the  same  rooms  with 
which  he  is  familiar,  peoplejvstill  by  those  whom  he  has 
known  and  loved — for  they  also  have  astral  bodies,  which 
are  within  the  range  of  his  new  vision.  Only  by  degrees 
does  he  realize  that  in  some  ways  there  is  a  difference. 
For  example,  he  soon  finds  that  for  him  all  pain  and 
fatigue  have  passed  away.  If  you  can  at  all  realize 
what  that  means,  you  will  begin  to  have  some  idea  of 
what  the  higher  life  truly  is.  Think  of  it,  you  who  have 
scarcely  ever  a  comfortable  moment,  you  who  in  the 
stress  of  your  busy  life  can  hardly  remember  when  you 
last  felt  free  from  fatigue ;  what  would  it  be  to  you  never 
again  to  know  the  meaning  of  the  words  weariness  and 
pain?  We  have  so  mismanaged  our  teaching  in  these 
western  countries  on  the  subject  of  immortality  that 
usually  a  dead  man  finds  it  difficult  to  believe  that  he  is 
dead,  simply  because  he  still  sees  and  hears,  thinks  and 
feels.  ^^I  am  not  dead,''  he  will  often  say,  **I  am  alive 
as  much  as  ever,  and  better  than  I  ever  was  before." 
Of  course  he  is;  but  that  is  exactly  what  he  ought  to 
have  expected,  if  he  had  been  properly  taught. 

Realization  may  perhaps  come  to  him  in  this  way. 
He  sees  his  friends  about  him,  but  he  soon  discovers  that 
he  cannot  always  communicate  with  them.  Sometimes 
he  speaks  to  them,  and  they  do  not  seem  to  hear;  he 
tries  to  touch  them,  and  finds  that  he  can  make  no  im- 
pression upon  them.  Even  then,  for  some  time  he  per- 
suades himself  that  he  is  dreaming,  and  will  presently 
awake,  for  at  other  times  (when  they  are  what  we  call 
asleep)  his  friends  are  perfectly  conscious  of  him,  and 
talk  with  him  as  of  old.  But  gradually  he  discovers  the 
fact  that  he  is  after  all  dead,  and  then  he  usually  begins 
to  become  uneasy.    Why?    Again  because  of  the  defec- 

8 


THE  TRUE  FACTS. 

tive  teaching  which  he  has  received.  He  does  not  under- 
stand where  he  is,  or  what  has  happened,  since  his  situa- 
tion is  not  what  he  expected  from  the  orthodox  stand- 
point. As  an  English  general  once  said  on  this  occas- 
ion, **But  if  I  am  dead,  where  am  I?  If  this  is  heaven 
I  don't  think  much  of  it;  and  if  it  is  hell,  it  is  better 
than  I  expected!" 


CHAPTER  m. 

PURGATORY. 

A  great  deal  of  totally  unnecessary  uneasiness  and 
even  acute  suffering  has  been  caused  by  those  who  still 
continue  to  teach  the  world  silly  fables  about  non-exis- 
tent bugbears  instead  of  using  reason  and  common  sense. 
The  baseless  and  blasphemous  hell-fire  theory  has  done 
more  harm  than  even  its  promoters  know,  for  it  has 
worked  evil  beyond  the  grave  as  well  as  on  this  side.  But 
presently  the  *^dead^'  man  will  meet  with  some  other 
dead  person  who  has  been  more  sensibly  instructed,  and 
will  learn  from  him  that  there  is  no  cause  for  fear,  and 
that  there  is  a  rational  life  to  be  lived  in  this  new  world 
just  as  there  was  in  the  old  one. 

He  will  find  by  degrees  that  there  is  very  much  that 
is  new  as  well  as  much  that  is  a  counterpart  of  that 
which  he  already  knows;  for  in  this  astral  world 
thoughts  and  desires  express  themselves  in  visible  forms, 
though  these  are  composed  mostly  of  the  finer  matter  of 
the  plane.  As  his  astral  life  proceeds,  these  become  more 
and  more  prominent,  for  we  must  remember  that  he  is 
all  the  while  steadily  withdrawing  further  and  further 
into  himself.  The  entire  period  of  an  incarnation  is  in 
reality  occupied  by  the  ego  in  first  putting  himself  forth 
into  matter,  and  then  in  drawing  back  again  with  the 
results  of  his  effort.  If  the  ordinary  man  were  asked  to 
draw  a  line  symbolical  of  life,  he  would  probably  make 
it  a  straight  one,  beginning  at  birth  and  ending  at  death ; 
but  the  Theosophical  student  should  rather  represent 
the  life  as  a  great  ellipse,  starting  from  the  ego  on  the 
higher  mental  level  and  returning  to  him.  The  line 
would  descend  into  the  lower  part  of  the  mental  plane, 
and  then  into  the  astral.    A  very  small  portion,  compara- 

10 


PUEGATOEY. 

tively,  at  the  bottom  of  the  ellipse,  would  be  upon  the 
physical  plane,  and  the  line  would  very  soon  reascend 
into  the  astral  and  mental  planes.  The  physical  life 
would  therefore  be  represented  only  by  that  small  por- 
tion of  the  curve  which  lay  below  the  line  which  indi- 
cated the  boundary  between  the  astral  and  physical 
planes,  and  birth  and  death  would  simply  be  the  points 
at  which  the  curve  crossed  that  line — obviously  by  no 
means  the  most  important  points  of  the  whole. 

The  real  central  point  would  clearly  be  that  furthest 
removed  from  the  ego — the  turning  point,  as  it  were — 
what  in  astronomy  we  should  call  the  aphelion.  That  is 
neither  birth  nor  death,  but  should  be  a  middle  point  in 
the  physical  life,  when  the  force  from  the  ego  has  ex- 
pended its  outward  rush,  and  turns  to  begin  the  long 
process  of  withdrawal.  Gradually  his  thoughts  should 
turn  upward,  he  cares  less  and  less  for  merely  physical 
matters,  and  presently  he  drops  the  dense  body  alto- 
gether. His  life  on  the  astral  plane  commences,  but  dur- 
ing the  whole  of  it  the  process  of  withdrawal  continues. 
The  result  of  this  is  that  as  time  passes  he  pays  less  and 
less  attention  to  the  lower  matter  of  which  counterparts 
of  physical  objects  are  composed,  and  is  more  and  more 
occupied  with  that  higher  matter  of  which  thought- 
forms  are  built — so  far,  that  is,  as  thought-forms  appear 
on  the  astral  plane  at  all.  So  his  life  becomes  more  and 
more  a  life  in  a  world  of  thought,  and  the  counterpart 
of  the  world  which  he  has  left  fades  from  his  view,  not 
that  he  has  changed  his  location  in  space,  but  that  his 
interest  is  shifting  its  center.  His  desires  still  persist, 
and  the  forms  surrounding  him  will  be  very  largely  the 
expression  of  these  desires,  and  whether  his  life  is  one  of 
happiness  or  discomfort  will  depend  chiefly  upon  the 
nature  of  these. 

A  study  of  this  astral  life  shows  us  very  clearly  the 
reason  for  many  ethical  precepts.  Most  men  recognize 
that  sins  which  injure  others  are  definitely  and  obviously 
wrong ;  but  they  sometimes  wonder  why  it  should  be  said 

11 


THE  LIFE  AFTEE  DEATH 

to  be  wrong  for  them  to  feel  jealousy,  or  hatred,  or  am- 
bition, so  long  as  they  do  not  allow  themselves  to  mani- 
fest these  feelings  outwardly  in  deed  or  in  speech.  A 
glimpse  at  this  after-world  shows  us  exactly  how  such 
feelings  injure  the  man  who  harbors  them,  and  how 
they  would  cause  him  suffering  of  the  most  acute  char- 
acter after  his  death.  We  shall  understand  this  better 
if  we  examine  a  few  typical  cases  of  astral  life,  and  see 
what  their  principal  characteristics  will  be. 

Let  us  think  first  of  the  ordinary  colorless  man,  who 
is  neither  specially  good,  nor  specially  bad,  nor  indeed 
specially  anything  in  particular.  The  man  is  in  no  way 
changed,  so  colorlessness  will  remain  his  principal  char- 
acteristic (if  we  can  call  it  one)  after  his  death.  He  will 
have  no  special  suffering  and  no  special  joy,  and  may 
very  probably  find  astral  life  rather  dull,  because  he  has 
not  during  his  time  on  earth  developed  any  rational 
interests.  If  he  has  had  no  ideas  beyond  gossip  or  what 
is  called  sport,  or  nothing  beyond  his  business  or  his 
dress,  he  is  likely  to  find  time  hang  heavy  on  his  hands 
when  all  such  things  are  no  longer  possible.  But  the 
case  of  a  man  who  has  had  strong  desires  of  a  low  mate- 
rial type,  such  as  could  be  satisfied  only  on  the  physical 
plane,  is  an  even  worse  one.  Think  of  the  case  of  the 
drunkard  or  the  sensualist.  He  has  been  the  slave  of 
overmastering  craving  during  earth-life,  and  it  still  re- 
mains undiminished  after  death — rather,  it  is  stronger 
than  ever,  since  its  vibrations  have  no  longer  the  heavy 
physical  particles  to  set  in  motion.  But  the  possibility 
of  gratifying  this  terrible  thirst  is  for  ever  removed, 
because  the  body,  through  which  alone  it  could  be  satis- 
fied, is  gone.  We  see  that  the  fires  of  purgatory  are  no 
inapt  symbols  for  the  vibrations  of  such  a  torturing  de- 
sire as  this.  It  may  endure  for  a  quite  long  time,  since 
it  passes  only  by  gradually  wearing  itself  out,  and  the 
man's  fate  is  undoubtedly  a  terrible  one.  Yet  there  are 
two  points  that  we  should  bear  in  mind  in  considering 
it.    First,  the  man  has  made  it  absolutely  for  himself, 

12 


Fig.   2. 


Fig.   3. 


PUEGATORY. 

and  determined  the  exact  degree  of  its  power  and  its 
duration.  If  he  had  controlled  that  desire  during  life 
there  would  have  been  just  so  much  the  less  of  it  to 
trouble  him  after  death.  Secondly,  it  is  the  only  way 
in  which  he  can  get  rid  of  the  vice.  If  he  could  pass 
from  a  life  of  sensuality  and  drunkenness  directly  into 
his  next  incarnation,  he  would  be  born  a  slave  to  his  vice 
— it  would  dominate  him  from  the  beginning,  and  there 
would  be  for  him  no  possibility  of  escape.  But  now  that 
the  desire  has  worn  itself  out,  he  will  begin  his  new 
career  without  that  burden,  and  the  soul,  having  had  so 
severe  a  lesson,  will  make  every  possible  effort  to  re- 
strain its  lower  vehicles  from  repeating  such  a  mistake. 
All  this  was  known  to  the  world  even  as  lately  as 
classical  times.  "We  see  it  clearly  imaged  for  us  in  the 
myth  of  Tantalus,  who  suffered  always  with  raging 
thirst,  yet  was  doomed  for  ever  to  see  the  water  recede 
just  as  it  was  about  to  touch  his  lips.  Many  another  sin 
produces  its  result  in  a  manner  just  as  gruesome,  al- 
though each  is  peculiar  to  itself.  See  how  the  miser  will 
suffer  when  he  can  no  longer  hoard  his  gold,  when  he 
perhaps  knows  that  it  is  being  spent  by  alien  hands. 
Think  how  the  jealous  man  will  continue  to  suffer  from 
his  jealousy,  knowing  that  he  has  now  no  power  to  inter- 
fere upon  the  physical  plane,  yet  feeling  more  strongly 
than  ever.  Remember  the  fate  of  Sisyphus  in  Greek 
myth — how  he  was  condemned  forever  to  roll  a  heavy 
rock  up  to  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  only  to  see  it  roll 
down  again  the  moment  that  success  seemed  within  his 
reach.  See  how  exactly  this  typified  the  after-life  of  the 
man  of  worldly  ambition.  He  has  all  his  life  been  in 
the  habit  of  forming  selfish  plans,  and  therefore  he  con- 
tinues to  do  so  in  the  astral  world;  he  carefully  builds 
up  his  plot  until  it  is  perfect  in  his  mind,  and  only  then 
realizes  that  he  has  lost  the  physical  body  which  is  neces- 
sary for  its  achievement.  Down  fall  his  hopes ;  yet  so  in- 
grained is  the  habit  that  he  continues  again  and  again 
to  roll  the  same  stone  up  the  same  mountain  of  ambition, 

13 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

until  the  vice  is  worn  out.  Then  at  last  he  realizes  that 
he  need  not  roll  his  rock,  and  lets  it  rest  in  peace  at  the 
bottom  of  the  hill. 

.We  have  considered  the  case  of  the  ordinary  man, 
and  of  the  man  who  dii3Pers  from  the  ordinary  because 
of  his  gross  and  selfish  desires.  Now  let  us  examine  the 
case  of  the  man  who  differs  from  the  ordinary  in  the 
other  direction — who  has  some  interests  of  a  rational 
nature.  In  order  to  understand  how  the  after-life  ap- 
pears to  him,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  majority 
of  men  spend  the  greater  part  of  their  waking  life  and 
most  of  their  strength  in  work  that  they  do  not  really 
like,  that  they  would  not  do  at  all  if  it  were  not  necessary 
in  order  to  earn  their  living,  or  support  those  who  are  de- 
pendent upon  them.  Kealize  the  condition  of  the  man 
when  all  necessity  for  this  grinding  toil  is  over,  when  it 
is  no  longer  needful  to  earn  a  living,  since  the  astral 
body  requires  no  food  nor  clothing  nor  lodging.  Then 
for  the  first  time  since  earliest  childhood  that  man  is 
free  to  do  precisely  what  he  likes,  and  can  devote  his 
whole  time  to  whatever  may  be  his  chosen  occupation — 
so  long,  that  is,  as  it  is  of  such  a  nature  as  to  be  capable 
of  realization  without  physical  matter.  Suppose  that  a 
man 's  greatest  delight  is  in  music ;  upon  the  astral  plane 
he  has  the  opportunity  of  listening  to  all  the  grandest 
music  that  earth  can  produce,  and  is  even  able  under 
these  new  conditions  to  hear  far  more  in  it  than  before, 
since  here  other  and  fuller  harmonies  than  our  dull  ears 
can  grasp  are  now  within  his  reach.  The  man  whose  de- 
light is  in  art,  who  loves  beauty  in  form  and  color,  has 
all  the  loveliness  of  this  higher  world  before  him  from 
which  to  choose.  If  his  delight  is  in  beauty  in  Nature,  he 
has  unequalled  possibilities  for  indulging  it;  for  he  can 
readily  and  rapidly  move  from  place  to  place,  and  enjoy 
in  quick  succession  wonders  of  Nature  which  the  physical 
man  would  need  years  to  visit.  If  his  fancy  turns  to- 
wards science  or  history,  the  libraries  and  the  labora- 
tories of  the  world  are  at  his  disposal,  and  his  compre- 

14 


PURGATORY. 

hension  of  processes  in  chemistry  and  biology  would  be 
far  fuller  than  ever  before,  for  now  he  could  see  the 
inner  as  well  as  the  outer  workings,  and  many  of  the 
causes  as  well  as  the  effects.  And  in  all  these  cases  there 
is  the  wonderful  additional  delight  that  no  fatigue  is 
possible.  Here  we  know  how  constantly,  when  we  are 
making  some  progress  in  our  studies  or  our  experiments, 
we  are  unable  to  carry  them  on  because  our  brain  will 
not  bear  more  than  a  certain  amount  of  strain;  outside 
of  the  physical  no  fatigue  seems  to  exist,  for  it  is  in 
reality  the  brain  and  not  the  mind  that  tires. 

All  this  time  I  have  been  speaking  of  mere  selfish 
gratification,  even  though  it  be  of  the  rational  and  intel- 
lectual kind.  But  there  are  those  among  us  who  would 
not  be  satisfied  without  something  higher  than  this— 
whose  greatest  joy  in  any  life  would  consist  in  serving 
their  fellow-men.  What  has  the  astral  life  in  store  for 
them?  They  will  pursue  their  philanthropy  more  vigo- 
rously than  ever,  and  under  better  conditions  than  on 
this  lower  plane.  There  are  thousands  whom  they  can 
help,  and  with  far  greater  certainty  of  really  being  able 
to  do  good  than  we  usually  attain  in  this  life.  Some 
devote  themselves  thus  to  the  general  good;  some  are 
especially  occupied  with  cases  among  their  own  family 
or  friends,  either  living  or  dead.  It  is  a  strange  inver- 
sion of  the  facts,  this  employment  of  those  words  living 
and  dead ;  for  surely  we  are  the  dead,  we  who  are  buried 
in  these  gross,  cramping  physical  bodies;  and  they  are 
truly  the  living,  who  are  so  much  freer  and  more  capa- 
.ble,  because  less  hampered.  Often  the  mother  who  has 
passed  into  that  higher  life  will  still  watch  over  her 
child,  and  be  to  him  a  veritable  guardian  angel;  often 
the  ^'dead'^  husband  still  remains  within  reach,  and  in 
touch  with  his  sorrowing  wife,  thankful  if  even  now  and 
then  he  is  able  to  make  her  feel  that  he  lives  in  strength 
and  love  beside  her  as  of  yore. 

If  all  this  be  so,  you  may  think,  then  surely  the  sooner 
we  die  the  better ;  such  knowledge  seems  almost  to  place 

15 


THE   LIFE   AFTEE  DEATH 

a  premium  on  suicide!  If  you  are  thinking  solely  of 
yourself  and  of  your  pleasure,  then  emphatically  that 
would  be  so.  But  if  you  think  of  your  duty  towards 
God  and  towards  your  fellows,  then  you  will  at  once 
see  that  this  consideration  is  negatived.  You  are  here 
for  a  purpose — a  purpose  which  can  only  be  attained 
upon  this  physical  plane.  The  soul  has  to  take  much 
trouble  to  go  through  much  limitation,  in  order  to  gain 
this  earthly  incarnation,  and  therefore  its  efforts  must 
not  be  thrown  away  unnecessarily.  The  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  is  divinely  implanted  in  our  breasts,  and 
it  is  our  duty  to  make  the  most  of  this  earthly  life 
which  is  ours,  and  to  retain  it  as  long  as  circumstances 
permit.  There  are  lessons  to  be  learnt  on  this  plane 
which  cannot  be  learnt  anywhere  else,  and  the  sooner 
we  learn  them  the  sooner  we  shall  be  free  for  ever  from 
the  need  of  return  to  this  lower  and  more  limited  life. 
So  none  must  dare  to  die  until  his  time  comes,  though 
when  it  does  come  he  may  well  rejoice,  for  indeed  he  is 
about  to  pass  from  labor  to  refreshment.  Yet  all  this 
which  I  have  told  you  now  is  insignificant  beside  the 
glory  of  the  life  which  follows  it — the  life  of  the  heaven- 
world.  This  is  the  purgatory — that  is  the  endless  bliss 
of  which  monks  have  dreamed  and  poets  sung — not  a 
dream  after  all,  but  a  living  and  glorious  reality.  The 
astral  life  is  happy  for  some,  unhappy  for  others,  accord- 
ing to  the  preparation  they  have  made  for  it;  but  what 
follows  it  is  perfect  happiness  for  all,  and  exactly  suited 
to  the  needs  of  each. 

Before  closing  this  chapter  let  us  consider  one  or  two 
questions  which  are  perpetually  recurring  to  the  minds 
of  those  who  seek  information  about  the  next  life.  Shall 
we  be  able  to  make  progress  there,  some  will  ask?  Un- 
doubtedly, for  progress  is  the  rule  of  the  Divine 
Scheme.  It  is  possible  to  us  just  in  proportion  to  our 
development.  The  man  who  is  a  slave  to  desire  can  only 
progress  by  wearing  out  his  desire ;  still,  that  is  the  best 
that  is  possible  at  his  stage.    But  the  man  who  is  kindly 

16 


PUEGATORY. 

and  helpful  learns  much  in  many  ways  through  the 
work  which  he  is  able  to  do  in  that  astral  life;  he  will 
return  to  earth  with  many  additional  powers  and  qual- 
ities because  of  the  practice  he  has  had  in  unselfish  ef- 
fort. So  we  need  have  no  fear  as  to  this  question  of 
progress. 

Another  point  often  raised  is,  shall  we  recognize  our 
loved  ones  who  have  passed  on  before  us  ?  Assuredly  we 
shall,  for  neither  they  nor  we  shall  be  changed;  why,, 
then,  should  we  not  recognize  them?  The  attraction  is 
still  there,  and  will  act  as  a  magnet  to  draw  together 
those  who  feel  it,  more  readily  and  more  surely  there 
than  here.  True,  that  if  the  loved  one  has  left  this  earth 
very  long  ago,  he  may  have  already  passed  beyond  the 
astral  plane,  and  entered  the  heaven-life;  in  that  case 
we  must  wait  until  we  also  reach  that  level  before  we 
can  rejoin  him,  but  when  that  is  gained  we  shall  possess 
our  friend  more  perfectly  than  in  this  prison-house  we 
can  ever  realize.  But  of  this  be  sure,  that  those  whom 
you  have  loved  are  not  lost ;  if  they  have  died  recently, 
then  you  will  find  them  on  the  astral  plane;  if  they 
have  died  long  ago,  you  will  find  them  in  the  heaven- 
life,  but  in  any  case  the  reunion  is  sure  where  the  af- 
fection exists.  For  love  is  one  of  the  mightiest  powers 
of  the  universe,  whether  it  be  in  life  or  in  death. 

There  is  an  infinity  of  interesting  information  to  be 
given  about  this  higher  life.  You  should  read  the  liter- 
ature; read  Mrs.  Besant's  '^ Death  and  After,"  and  my 
own  books  on  ^^The  AstraLi'lane, ' '  and  "The  Other  Side 
of  Death."  It  is  very  well  worth  your  while  to  study 
tliis  subject,  for  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  takes  away 
all  fear  of  death,  and  makes  life  easier  to  live,  because 
we  understand  its  object  and  its  end.  Death  brings  no 
suffering,  but  only  joy,  for  those  who  live  the  true,  the 
unselfish  life.  The  old  Latin  saying  is  literally  true — 
Mors  janua  vitae — death  is  the  gate  of  life.  That  is  ex- 
actly what  it  is — a  gate  into  a  fuller  and  higher  life. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  grave,  as  well  as  on  this,  prevails; 

17 


THE  LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 


the  great  law  of  Divine  Justice,  and  we  can  trust  as  im- 
plicity  there  as  here  to  the  action  of  that  law,  with  re- 
gard both  to  ourselves  and  to  those  we  love. 


18 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  HEAVEN-WORLD 

All  religions  agree  in  declaring  the  existence  of 
heaven,  and  in  stating  that  the  enjoyment  of  its  bliss 
follows  upon  a  well-spent  earthly  life.  Christianity  and 
Mohammedanism  speak  of  it  as  a  reward  assigned  by 
God  to  those  who  have  pleased  Him,  but  most  other 
faiths  describe  it  rather  as  the  necessary  result  of  the 
good  life,  exactly  as  we  should  from  the  Theosophical 
point  of  view.  Yet  though  all  religions  agree  in  painting 
this  happy  life  in  glowing  terms,  none  of  them  have 
succeeded  in  producing  an  impression  of  reality  in  their 
descriptions.  All  that  is  written  about  heaven  is  so 
absolutely  unlike  anything  that  we  have  known,  that 
many  of  the  descriptions  seem  almost  grotesque  to  us. 
We  should  hesitate  to  admit  this  with  regard  to  the 
legends  familiar  to  us  from  our  infancy,  but  if  the 
stories  of  one  of  the  other  great  religions  were  read  to  us, 
we  should  see  it  readily  enough.  In  Buddhist  or  Hindu 
books  you  will  find  magniloquent  accounts  of  intermin- 
able gardens,  in  which  the  trees  are  all  of  gold  and  silver, 
and  their  fruits  of  various  kinds  of  jewels,  and  you 
might  be  tempted  to  smile,  unless  the  thought  occurred 
to  you  that  after  all,  to  the  Buddhist  or  Hindu  our  tales 
of  streets  of  gold  and  gates  of  pearl  might  in  truth  seem 
quite  as  improbable.  The  fact  is  that  the  ridiculous  ele- 
ment is  imported  into  these  accounts  only  when  we  take 
them  literally,  and  fail  to  realize  that  each  scribe  is  try- 
ing the  same  task  from  his  point  of  view,  and  that  all 
alike  are  failing  because  the  great  truth  behind  it  all  is; 

19 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

utterly  indescribable.  The  Hindu  writer  had  no  doubt 
seen  some  of  the  gorgeous  gardens  of  the  Indian  kings, 
where  just  such  decorations  as  he  describes  are  com- 
monly employed.  The  Jewish  scribe  had  no  familiarity 
with  such  things,  but  he  dwelt  in  a  great  and  magnificent 
city — probably  Alexandria;  and  so  his  conception  of 
splendor  was  a  city,  but  made  unlike  anything  on  earth 
by  the  costliness  of  its  material  and  its  decorations.  So 
each  is  trying  to  paint  a  truth  which  is  too  grand  for 
words  by  employing  such  similes  as  are  familiar  to  his 
mind. 

There  have  been  those  since  that  day  who  have  seen 
the  glory  of  heaven,  and  have  tried  in  their  feeble  way 
to  describe  it.  Some  of  our  own  students  have  been 
among  these,  and  in  the  Theosophical  Manual  No.  6* 
you  may  find  an  effort  of  my  own  in  that  direction.  We 
do  not  speak  now  of  gold  and  silver,  of  rubies  and  dia- 
monds, when  we  wish  to  convey  the  idea  of  the  greatest 
possible  refinement  and  beauty  of  color  and  form;  we 
draw  our  similes  rather  from  the  colors  of  the  sunset, 
and  from  all  the  glories  of  sea  and  sky,  because  to  us 
these  are  the  more  heavenly.  Yet  those  of  us  who  have 
seen  the  truth  know  well  that  in  all  our  attempts  at 
description  we  have  failed  as  utterly  as  the  Oriental 
scribes  to  convey  any  idea  of  a  reality  which  no  words 
can  ever  picture,  though  every  man  one  day  shall  see 
it  and  know  it  for  himself. 

For  this  heaven  is  not  a  dream;  it  is  a  radiant  real- 
ity; but  to  comprehend  anything  of  it  we  must  first 
change  one  of  our  initial  ideas  on  the  subject.  Heaven 
is  not  a  place,  but  a  state  of  consciousness.  If  you  ask 
me  *' Where  is  heaven?"  I  must  answer  you  that  it  is 
here — round  you  at  this  very  moment,  near  to  you  as 
the  air  you  breathe.  The  light  is  all  about  you,  as  the 
Buddha  said  so  long  ago;  you  have  only  to  cast  the 
bandage  from  your  eyes  and  look.  But  what  is  this  cast- 
ing away  of  a  bandage?    Of  what  is  it  symbolical?    It 

*  '  ^  The  Devachanic  Plane,  or  the  Heaven-World.  ^  ^ 

20 


THE    HEAVEN- WORLD. 

is  simply  a  question  of  raising  the  consciousness  to  a 
higher  level,  of  learning  to  focus  it  in  the  vehicle  of 
finer  matter.  I  have  already  spoken  of  the  possibility 
of  doing  this  with  regard  to  the  astral  body,  thereby 
seeing  the  astral  world;  this  needs  simply  a  further 
stage  of  the  same  process,  the  raising  of  the  conscious- 
ness to  the  mental  plane,  for  man  has  a  body  for  that 
level  also,  through  which  he  may  receive  its  vibrations, 
and  so  live  in  the  glowing  splendor  of  heaven  while 
still  possessing  a  physical  body — though  indeed  after 
such  an  experience  he  will  have  little  relish  for  the 
return  to  the  latter. 

The  ordinary  man  reaches  this  state  of  bliss  only 
after  death,  and  not  immediately  after  it  except  in  very 
rare  cases.  I  have  explained  how  after  death  the  Ego 
steadily  withdrew  into  himself.  The  whole  astral  life  is 
in  fact  a  constant  process  of  withdrawal,  and  when  in 
course  of  time  the  soul  reaches  the  limit  of  that  plane, 
he  dies  to  it  in  just  the  same  way  as  he  did  to  the  physical 
plane.  That  is  to  say,  he  casts  off  the  body  of  that  plane, 
and  leaves  it  behind  him  while  he  passes  on  to  higher  and 
still  fuller  life.  No  pain  or  suffering  of  any  kind  pre- 
cedes this  second  death,  but  just  as  with  the  first,  there 
is  usually  a  period  of  unconsciousness,  from  which  the 
man  awakes  gradually.  Some  years  ago  I  wrote  a  book 
called  ^^The  Devachanic  Plane,''  in  which  I  endeavored 
to  some  extent  to  describe  what  he  would  see,  and  to 
tabulate  as  far  as  I  could  the  various  subdivisions  of 
this  glorious  Land  of  Light,  giving  instances  which  had 
been  observed  in  the  course  of  our  investigations  in  con- 
nection with  this  heaven-life.  For  the  moment  I  shall 
try  to  put  the  matter  before  you  from  another  point  of 
view,  and  those  who  wish  may  supplement  the  informa- 
tion by  reading  the  book  as  well. 

Perhaps  the  most  comprehensive  opening  statement 
is  that  this  is  the  plane  of  the  Divine  mind,  that  here  we 
are  in  the  very  realm  of  thought  itself,  and  that  every- 
thing that  man  possibly  could  think  is  here  in  vivid  living 

21 


THE   LIFE   AFTEE  DEATH 

reality.  We  labor  under  a  great  disadvantage  from  our 
habit  of  regarding  material  things  as  real,  and  those 
which  are  not  material  as  dream-like  and  therefore  un- 
real; whereas  the  fact  is  that  everything  which  is  ma- 
terial is  buried  and  hidden  in  this  matter,  and  so  what- 
ever of  reality  it  may  possess  is  far  less  obvious  and 
recognizable  than  it  would  be  when  regarded  from  a 
higher  standpoint.  So  that  when  we  hear  of  a  world  of 
thought,  we  immediately  think  of  an  unreal  world,  built 
out  of  ^^such  stuff  as  dreams  are  made  of,''  as  the  poet 
says. 

Try  to  realize  that  when  a  man  leaves  his  physical 
body  and  opens  his  consciousness  to  astral  life,  his  first 
sensation  is  of  the  intense  vividness  and  reality  of  that 
life,  so  that  he  thinks  *'Now  for  the  first  time  I  know 
what  it  is  to  live. ' '  But  when  in  turn  he  leaves  that  life 
for  the  higher  one,  he  exactly  repeats  the  same  experi- 
ence, for  this  life  is  in  turn  so  much  fuller  and  wider 
and  more  intense  than  the  astral  that  once  more  no 
comparison  is  possible.  And  yet  there  is  another  life 
yet,  beyond  all  this,  unto  which  even  this  is  but  as  moon- 
light unto  sunlight;  but  it  is  useless  at  present  to  think 
of  that. 

There  may  be  many  to  whom  it  sounds  absurd  that 
a  realm  of  thought  should  be  more  real  than  the  physi- 
cal world;  well,  it  must  remain  so  for  them  until  they 
have  some  experience  of  a  life  higher  than  this,  and  then 
in  one  moment  they  will  know  far  more  than  any  words 
can  ever  tell  them. 

On  this  plane,  then,  we  find  existing  the  infinite  ful- 
ness of  the  Divine  Mind,  open  in  all  its  limitless  affluence 
to  every  soul,  just  in  proportion  as  that  soul  has  qualified 
himself  to  receive.  If  man  had  already  completed  his 
destined  evolution,  if  he  had  fully  realized  and  unfolded 
the  divinity  whose  germ  is  within  him,  the  whole  of  this 
glory  would  be  within  his  reach;  but  since  none  of  us 
has  yet  done  that,  since  we  are  only  gradually  rising 
towards  that  splendid  consummation,  it  comes  that  none 

22 


THE    HEAVEN-WORLD. 

as  yet  can  grasp  that  entirely,  but  each  draws  from  it 
and  cognizes  only  so  much  as  he  has  by  previous  effort 
prepared  himself  to  take.  Different  individuals  bring 
very  different  capabilities;  as  the  Eastern  simile  has  it, 
each  man  brings  his  own  cup,  and  some  of  the  cups  are 
large  and  some  are  small,  but,  small  or  large,  every  cup 
is  filled  to  its  utmost  capacity ;  the  sea  of  bliss  holds  far 
more  than  enough  for  all. 

All  religions  have  spoken  of  this  bliss  of  heaven,  yet 
few  of  them  have  put  before  us  with  suffiicient  clearness 
and  precision  this  leading  idea  which  alone  explains  ra- 
tionally how  for  all  alike  such  bliss  is  possible — which  is, 
indeed,  the  key-note  of  the  conception — the  fact  that 
each  man  makes  his  own  heaven  by  selection  from  the  in- 
effable splendors  of  the  Thought  of  God  Himself.  A 
man  decides  for  himself  both  the  length  and  character 
of  his  heaven-life  by  the  causes  which  he  himself  gener- 
ates during  his  earth-life ;  therefore  he  cannot  but  have 
exactly  the  amount  which  he  has  deserved,  and  exactly 
the  quality  of  joy  which  is  best  suited  to  his  idiosyn- 
crasies, for  this  is  a  world  in  which  every  being  must, 
from  the  very  fact  of  his  consciousness  there,  be  enjoying 
the  highest  spiritual  bliss  of  which  he  is  capable — a 
world  whose  power  of  response  to  his  aspirations  is 
limited  only  by  his  capacity  to  aspire. 

He  had  made  himself  an  astral  body  by  his  desires  and 
passions  during  earth-life,  and  he  had  to  live  in  it  dur- 
ing his  astral  existence,  and  that  time  was  happy  or 
miserable  for  him  according  to  its  character.  Now  this 
time  of  purgatory  is  over,  for  that  lower  part  of  his 
nature  has  burnt  itself  away ;  now  there  remain  only  the 
higher  and  more  refined  thoughts,  the  noble  and  unselfish 
aspirations  that  he  poured  out  during  earth-life.  These 
cluster  round  him,  and  make  a  sort  of  shell  about  him, 
through  the  medium  of  which  he  is  able  to  respond  to 
certain  types  of  vibration  in  this  refined  matter.  These 
thoughts  which  surround  him  are  the  powers  by  which 
he  draws  upon  the  wealth  of  the  heaven-world,  and  he 

23 


THE   LIFE   AFTEE  DEATH 

finds  it  to  be  a  storehouse  of  infinite  extent  upon  which 
he  is  able  to  draw  just  according  to  the  power  of  those 
thoughts  and  aspirations  which  he  generated  in  the 
physical  and  astral  life.  All  the  highest  of  his  affection 
and  his  devotion  is  now  producing  its  results,  for  there 
is  nothing  else  left;  all  that  was  selfish  or  grasping  has 
been  left  behind  in  the  plane  of  desire. 

For  there  are  two  kinds  of  affection.  There  is  one, 
hardly  worthy  of  so  sublime  a  name,  which  thinks  al- 
ways of  how  much  love  it  is  receiving  in  return  for  its 
investment  of  attachment,  which  is  ever  worrying  as  to 
the  exact  amount  of  affection  which  the  other  person  is 
showing  for  it,  and  so  is  constantly  entangled  in  the  evil 
meshes  of  jealousy  and  suspicion.  Such  feeling,  grasp- 
ing and  full  of  greed,  will  work  out  its  results  of  doubt 
and  misery  upon  the  plane  of  desire,  to  which  it  so  clear- 
ly belongs.  But  there  is  another  kind  of  love,  which 
never  stays  to  think  how  much  it  is  loved,  but  has  only 
the  one  object  of  pouring  itself  out  unreservedly  at  the 
feet  of  the  object  of  its  affection,  and  considers  only  how 
best  it  can  express  in  action  the  feeling  which  fills  its 
heart  so  utterly.  Here  there  is  no  limitation,  because 
there  is  no  grasping,  no  drawing  towards  the  self,  no 
thought  of  return,  and  just  because  of  that  there  is  a 
tremendous  outpouring  of  force,  which  no  astral  matter 
could  express,  nor  could  the  dimensions  of  the  astral 
plane  contain  it.  It  needs  the  finer  matter  and  the  wider 
space  of  the  higher  level,  and  so  the  energy  generated 
belongs  to  the  mental  world.  Just  so  there  is  a  religious 
devotion  which  thinks  mainly  of  what  it  will  get  for  its 
prayers,  and  lowers  its  worship  into  a  species  of  bargain- 
ing ;  while  there  is  also  a  genuine  devotion,  which  forgets 
itself  absolutely  in  the  contemplation  of  its  deity.  We 
all  know  well  that  in  our  highest  devotion  there  is 
something  which  has  never  yet  been  satisfied,  that  our 
grandest  aspirations  have  never  yet  been  realized,  that 
when  we  really  love  unselfishly,  our  feeling  is  far  beyond 
all  power  of  expression  on  this  physical  plane,  that  the 

24 


THE    HEAVEN-WORLD. 

profound  emotion  stirred  within  our  hearts  by  the 
noblest  music  or  the  most  perfect  art  reaches  to  heights 
and  depths  unknown  to  this  dull  earth.  Yet  all  this  is 
a  wondrous  force  of  power  beyond  our  calculation,  and  it 
must  produce  its  result  somewhere,  somehow,  for  the  law 
of  the  conservation  of  energy  holds  good  upon  the  higher 
planes  of  thought  and  aspiration  just  as  surely  as  in 
ordinary  mechanics.  But  since  it  must  react  upon  him 
who  set  it  in  motion,  and  yet  it  cannot  work  upon  the 
physical  plane  because  of  its  narrowness  and  compara- 
tive grossness  of  matter,  how  and  when  can  it  produce 
its  inevitable  result?  It  simply  waits  for  the  man  until 
it  reaches  its  level ;  it  remains  as  so  much  stored-up  ener- 
gy until  its  opportunity  arrives.  While  this  conscious- 
ness is  focussed  upon  the  physical  and  astral  planes  it 
cannot  react  upon  him,  but  as  soon  as  he  transfers  him- 
self entirely  to  the  mental  it  is  ready  for  him,  its  flood- 
gates are  opened,  and  its  action  commences.  So  perfect 
justice  is  done,  and  nothing  is  ever  lost,  even  though  to 
us  in  this  lower  world  it  seems  to  have  missed  its  aim 
and  come  to  nothing. 


25 


CHAPTER  V. 

MANY  MANSIONS. 

The  key-note  of  the  conception  is  the  comprehension 
of  how  man  makes  his  own  heaven.  Here  upon  this 
plane  of  the  Divine  Mind  exists,  as  we  have  said,  all 
beauty  and  glory  conceivable ;  but  the  man  can  look  out 
upon  it  all  only  through  the  windows  he  himself  has 
made.  Every  one  of  his  thought-forms  is  such  a  window, 
through  which  response  may  come  to  him  from  the  forces 
without.  If  he  has  chiefly  regarded  physical  things  dur- 
ing his  earth-life,  then  he  has  made  for  himself  but  few 
windows  through  which  this  higher  glory  can  shine  in 
upon  him.  Yet  every  man  will  have  had  some  touch  of 
pure,  unselfish  feeling,  even  if  it  were  but  once  in  all  his 
life,  and  that  will  be  a  window  for  him  now.  Every  man, 
except  the  utter  savage  at  a  very  early  stage,  will  surely 
have  something  of  this  wonderful  time  of  bliss.  Instead 
of  saying,  as  orthodoxy  does,  that  some  men  will  go  to 
heaven  and  some  to  hell,  it  would  be  far  more  correct  to 
say  that  all  men  will  have  their  share  of  both  states  (if 
we  are  to  call  even  the  lowest  astral  life  by  so  horrible  a 
name  as  hell),  and  it  is  only  their  relative  proportions 
which  differ.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  soul  of 
the  ordinary  man  is  as  yet  but  at  an  early  stage  of  his 
development.  He  has  learnt  to  use  his  physical  vehicle 
with  comparative  ease,  and  he  can  also  function  toler- 
ably freely  in  his  astral  body,  though  he  is  rarely  able 
to  carry  through  the  memory  of  its  activities  to  his  physi- 
cal brain;  but  his  mental  body  is  not  yet  in  any  true 
sense  a  vehicle  at  all,  since  he  cannot  utilize  it  as  he  does 

26 


MANY    MANSIONS. 

those  lower  bodies,  cannot  travel  about  in  it,  nor  employ- 
its  senses  for  the  reception  of  information  in  the  normal 
way. 

We  must  not  think  of  him,  therefore,  as  in  a  condi- 
tion of  any  great  activity,  or  as  able  to  move  about  free- 
ly, as  he  did  upon  the  astral  levels.  His  condition  here 
is  chiefly  receptive,  and  his  communication  with  the 
world  outside  him  is  only  through  his  own  windows,  and 
therefore  exceedingly  limited.  The  man  who  can  put 
forth  full  activity  there  is  already  almost  more  than 
man,  for  he  must  be  a  glorified  spirit,  a  great  and  highly- 
evolved  entity.  He  would  have  full  consciousness  there, 
and  would  use  his  mental  vehicle  as  freely  as  the  ordi- 
nary man  employs  his  physical  body,  and  through  it 
vast  fields  of  higher  knowledge  would  lie  open  to  him. 

But  we  are  thinking  of  one  as  yet  less  developed  than 
this — one  who  has  his  windows,  and  sees  only  through 
them.  In  order  to  understand  his  heaven  we  must  con- 
sider two  points:  His  relation  to  the  plane  itself,  and 
his  relation  to  his  friends.  The  question  of  his  relation 
to  his  surroundings  upon  the  plane  divides  itself  into 
two  parts,  for  we  have  to  think  first  of  the  matter  of 
the  plane  as  moulded  by  his  thought,  and  secondly  of  the 
forces  of  the  plane  as  evoked  in  answer  to  his  aspirations. 

I  have  mentioned  how  man  surrounds  himself  with 
thought-forms;  here  on  this  plane  we  are  in  the  very 
home  of  thought,  so  naturally  those  forms  are  all-im- 
portant in  connection  with  both  these  considerations. 
There  are  living  forces  about  him,  mighty  angelic 'in- 
habitants of  the  plane,  and  many  of  their  orders  are 
very  sensitive  to  certain  aspirations  of  man,  and  readily 
respond  to  them.  But  naturally  both  his  thoughts  and 
his  aspirations  are  only  along  the  lines  which  he  has 
already  prepared  during  earth-life.  It  might  seem  that 
when  he  was  transferred  to  a  plane  of  such  transcendent 
force  and  vitality,  he  might  well  be  stirred  up  to  en- 
tirely new  activities  along  hitherto  unwonted  lines;  but 
this  is  not  possible.     His  mind-body  is  not  in  by  any 

27 


THE   LIFE   AFTEB  DEATH 

means  the  same  order  as  his  lower  vehicles,  and  is  by  no 
means  so  fully  under  his  control.  All  through  a  past  of 
many  lives,  it  has  been  accustomed  to  receive  its  im- 
pressions and  incitements  to  action  from  below,  through 
the  lower  vehicles,  chiefly  from  the  physical  body,  and 
sometimes  from  the  astral;  it  has  done  very  little  in 
the  way  of  receiving  direct  mental  vibrations  at  its  own 
level,  and  it  cannot  suddenly  begin  to  accept  and  respond 
to  them.  Practically,  then,  the  man  does  not  initiate  any 
new  thoughts,  but  those  which  he  has  already  form 
the  windows  through  which  he  looks  out  on  his  new 
world. 

With  regard  to  these  windows  there  are  two  possi- 
bilities of  variation — the  direction  in  which  they  look, 
and  the  kind  of  glass  of  which  they  are  composed.  There 
are  very  many  directions  which  the  higher  thought  may 
take.  Some  of  these,  such  as  affection  and  devotion,  are 
so  generally  of  a  personal  character  that  it  is  perhaps 
better  to  consider  them  in  connection  with  the  man's  re- 
lation to  other  people ;  let  us  rather  take  first  an  example 
where  that  element  does  not  come  in — where  we  have  to 
deal  only  with  the  influence  of  his  surroundings.  Sup- 
pose that  one  of  his  windows  into  heaven  is  that  of 
music.  Here  we  have  a  very  mighty  force;  you  know 
how  wonderfully  music  can  uplift  a  man,  can  make  him 
for  the  time  a  new  being  in  a  new  world;  if  you  have 
ever  experienced  its  effect  you  will  realize  that  here  we 
are  in  the  presence  of  the  stupendous  power.  The  man 
that  has  no  music  in  his  soul  has  no  window  open  in  that 
direction ;  but  a  man  who  has  a  musical  window  will  re- 
ceive through  it  three  entirely  distinct  sets  of  impres- 
sions, all  of  which,  however,  will  be  modified  by  the  kind 
of  glass  he  has  in  his  window.  It  is  obvious  that  his  glass 
may  be  a  great  limitation  to  his  view ;  it  may  be  colored, 
and  so  admit  only  certain  rays  of  light,  or  it  may  be  of 
poor  material,  and  so  distort  and  darken  all  the  rays  as 
they  enter.  For  example,  one  man  may  have  been  able 
while  on  earth  to  appreciate  only  one  class  of  music, 

28 


Fig.   4. 


Fig.  5. 


MANY    MANSIONS. 

and  so  on.  But  suppose  his  musical  window  to  be  a  good 
one,  what  will  he  receive  through  it? 

First,  he  will  sense  that  music  which  is  the  expression 
of  the  ordered  movement  of  the  forces  of  the  plane. 
There  was  a  definite  fact  behind  the  poetic  idea  of  the 
music  of  the  spheres,  for  on  these  higher  planes  all  move- 
ment and  action  of  any  kind  produces  glorious  harmon- 
ies both  of  sound  and  color.  All  thought  expresses  itself 
in  this  way — ^his  own  as  well  as  that  of  others — ^in  a 
lovely  yet  indescribable  series  of  everchanging  chords, 
as  of  a  thousand  JEolian  harps.  This  musical  manifes- 
tation of  the  vivid  and  glowing  life  of  heaven  would 
be  for  him  a  kind  of  ever-present  and  ever-delightful 
background  to  all  his  other  experiences. 

Secondly,  there  is  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  plane 
one  class  of  entities — one  great  order  of  angels,  as  our 
Christian  friends  would  call  them,  who  are  specially  de- 
voted to  music,  and  habitually  express  themselves  by 
its  means  to  a  far  fuller  extent  than  the  rest.  They  are 
spoken  of  in  old  Hindu  books  under  the  name  of  Gand- 
harvas.  The  man  whose  soul  is  in  tune  with  music  will 
certainly  attract  their  attention,  and  will  draw  himself 
into  connection  with  some  of  them,  and  so  will  learn 
with  ever-increasing  enjoyment  all  the  marvellous  new 
combinations  which  they  employ.  Thirdly,  he  will  be 
a  keenly  appreciative  listener  to  the  music  made  by  his 
fellow-men  in  the  heaven-world.  Think  how  many  great 
composers  have  preceded  him:  Bach,  Beethoven,  Men- 
delssohn, Handel,  Mozart,  Rossini — all  are  there,  not 
dead  but  full  of  vigorous  life,  and  ever  pouring  forth 
far  grander  strains,  far  more  glorious  harmonies,  than 
any  which  they  knew  on  earth.  Each  of  these  is  indeed 
a  fountain  of  wondrous  melody,  and  many  an  inspira- 
tion of  our  earthly  musicians  is  in  reality  but  a  faint  and 
far-off  echo  of  the  sweetness  of  their  song.  Very  far 
more  than  we  realize  of  the  genius  of  this  lower  world  is 
naught  but  a  reflection  of  the  untrammelled  powers  of 
those  who  have  gone  before  us;  oftener  than  we  think 

29 


THE   LIFE   AFTEE  DEATH 

the  man  who  is  receptive  here  can  catch  some  thought 
from  them,  and  reproduce  it,  so  far  as  may  be  possible, 
in  this  lower  sphere.  Great  masters  of  music  have  told 
us  how  they  sometimes  hear  the  whole  of  some  grand 
oratorio,  some  stately  march,  some  noble  chorus  in  one 
resounding  chord ;  how  it  is  in  this  way  that  the  inspira- 
tion comes  to  them,  though  when  they  try  to  write  it 
down  in  notes,  many  pages  of  music  may  be  necessary 
to  express  it.  That  exactly  expresses  the  manner  in 
which  the  heavenly  music  differs  from  that  which  we 
know  here;  one  mighty  chord  there  will  convey  what 
here  would  take  hours  to  render  far  less  effectively. 

Very  similar  would  be  the  experiences  of  the  man 
whose  window  was  art.  He  also  would  have  the  same 
three  possibilities  of  delight,  for  the  order  of  the  plane 
expresses  itself  in  color  as  well  as  in  sound,  and  all  Theo- 
sophical  students  are  familiar  with  the  fact  that  there 
is  a  color  language  of  the  Devas — an  order  of  spirits 
whose  very  communication  one  with  another  is  by  flash- 
ings of  splendid  color.  Again,  all  the  great  artists  of 
mediaeval  times  are  working  still — not  with  brush  and 
canvas,  but  with  the  far  easier,  yet  infinitely  more  satis- 
factory moulding  of  mental  matter  by  the  power  of 
thought.  Every  artist  knows  how  far  below  the  concep- 
tion in  his  mind  is  the  most  successful  expression  of  it 
upon  paper  or  canvas;  but  here  to  think  is  to  realize, 
and  disappointment  is  impossible.  The  same  thing  is 
true  of  all  directions  of  thought,  so  that  there  is  in  truth 
an  infinity  to  enjoy  and  to  learn,  far  beyond  all  that  our 
limited  minds  can  grasp  down  here. 


30 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OUR  FRIENDS  IN  HEAVEN. 

But  let  us  turn  to  the  second  part  of  our  subject,  the  \ 
question  of  the  man's  relations  with  persons  whom  he 
loves,  or  with  those  for  whom  he  feels  devotion  or  adora- 
tion. Again  and  again  people  ask  us  whether  they  will 
meet  and  know  their  loved  ones  in  this  grander  life, 
whether  amid  all  this  unimaginable  splendor  they  will 
look  in  vain  for  the  familiar  faces  without  which  all  \ 
would  for  them  seem  vanity.  Happily  to  this  question  1 
the  answer  is  clear  and  unqualified;  the  friends  will  j 
be  there  without  the  least  shadow  of  doubt,  and  far  more  / 
fully,  far  more  really,  than  ever  they  have  been  with  us  ! 
yet. 

Yet  again,  men  often  ask  **what  of  our  friends  al- 
ready in  the  enjoyment  of  the  heaven-life ;  can  they  see 
us  here  below?  Are  they  watching  us  and  waiting  for 
us?''  Hardly;  for  there  would  be  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  either  of  these  theories.  How  could  the  dead  be 
happy  if  he  looked  back  and  saw  those  whom  he  loved  in 
sorrow  or  suffering,  or,  far  worse  still,  in  the  commission 
of  sin?  And  if  we  adopt  the  other  alternative,  that  he 
does  not  see,  but  is  waiting,  the  case  is  scarcely  better. 
For  then  the  man  will  have  a  long  and  wearisome  period 
of  waiting,  a  painful  time  of  suspense,  often  extending 
over  many  years,  while  the  friend  would  in  many  cases 
arrive  so  much  changed  as  to  be  no  longer  sympathetic. 
On  the  system  so  wisely  provided  for  us  by  nature  all 
these  difficulties  are  avoided;  those  whom  the  man  loves 
most  he  has  ever  with  him,  and  always  at  their  noblest 
and  best,  while  no  shadow  of  discord  or  change  can  ever 

31 


THE   LIFE  AFTER  DEATH 

come  between  them,  since  he  receives  from  them  all  the 
time  exactly  what  he  wishes.  The  arrangement  is  in- 
finitely superior  to  anything  which  the  imagination  of 
man  has  been  able  to  offer  us  in  its  place — as  indeed  we 
might  have  expected — for  all  those  speculations  were 
man's  idea  of  what  is  best,  but  the  truth  is  God's  idea. 
Let  me  try  to  explain  it. 

Whenever  we  love  a  person  very  deeply  we  form  a 
strong  mental  image  of  him,  and  he  is  often  present  in 
our  mind.  Inevitably  we  take  his  mental  image  into  the 
heaven-world  with  us,  because  it  is  to  that  level  of  matter 
that  it  naturally  belongs.  But  the  love  which  forms  and 
retains  such  an  image  is  a  very  powerful  force — a  force 
which  is  strong  enough  to  reach  and  act  upon  the  soul  of 
that  friend,  the  real  man  whom  we  love.  That  soul  at 
once  and  eagerly  responds,  and  pours  himself  into  the 
thought-form  which  we  have  made  for  him,  and  in  that 
way  we  find  our  friend  truly  present  with  us,  more  vivid- 
ly than  ever  before.  Remember,  it  is  the  soul  we  love, 
not  the  body ;  and  it  is  the  soul  that  we  have  with  us  here. 
It  may  be  said,  **Yes,  that  would  be  so  if  the  friend  were 
also  dead ;  but  suppose  he  is  still  alive ;  he  cannot  be  in 
two  places  at  once.''  The  fact  is  that,  as  far  as  this  is 
concerned,  he  can  be  in  two  places  at  once,  and  often 
many  more  than  two;  and  whether  he  is  what  we  com- 
monly call  living,  or  what  we  commonly  call  dead,  makes 
not  the  slightest  difference.  Let  us  try  to  understand 
what  a  soul  really  is,  and.  we  shall  see  better  how  this 
may  be. 

The  soul  belongs  to  a  higher  plane,  and  is  a  much 
greater  and  grander  thing  "than  any  manifestation  of  it 
can  be.  Its  relation  to  its  manifestations  is  that  of  one 
dimension  to  another — ^that  of  a  line  to  a  square,  or  a 
square  to  a  cube.  No  number  of  squares  could  ever 
make  a  cube,  because  the  square  has  only  two  dimen- 
sions, while  the  cube  has  three.  So  no  number  of  ex- 
pressions on  any  lower  plane  can  ever  exhaust  the  ful- 
ness of  the  soul,  since  he  stands  upon  an  altogether 

32 


OUE   FEIENDS   IN  HEAVEN. 

higher  level.  He  puts  down  a  small  portion  of  himself 
into  a  physical  body  in  order  to  acquire  experience 
which  can  only  be  had  on  this  plane;  he  can  take  only 
one  such  body  at  a  time,  for  that  is  the  law;  but  if  he 
could  take  a  thousand,  they  would  not  be  sufficient  to 
express  what  he  really  is.  He  may  have  only  one  physi- 
cal body,  but  if  he  has  evoked  such  love  from  a  friend, 
that  that  friend  has  a  strong  mental  image  of  him  al- 
ways present  in  his  thought,  then  he  is  able  to  respond 
to  that  love  by  pouring  into  that  thought-form  his  own 
life,  and  so  vivifying  it  into  a  real  expression  of  him  on 
this  level  which  is  two  whole  planes  higher  than  the 
physical,  and  therefore  so  much  the  better  able  to  express 
his  qualities. 

If  it  still  seems  difficult  to  realize  how  his  conscious- 
ness can  be  active  in  that  manifestation  as  well  as  in 
this,  compare  with  this  an  ordinary  physical  experience. 
Each  of  us,  as  he  sits  in  his  chair,  is  conscious  at  the 
same  instant  of  several  physical  contacts.  He  touches 
the  seat  of  the  chair,  his  feet  rest  on  the  ground,  his 
hands  feel  the  arms  of  the  chair,  or  perhaps  hold  a  book ; 
and  yet  his  brain  had  no  difficulty  in  realizing  all  these 
contacts  at  once ;  why,  then  should  it  be  harder  for  the 
soul,  which  is  so  much  greater  than  the  mere  physical 
consciousness,  to  be  conscious  simultaneously  in  more 
than  one  of  these  manifestations  on  planes  so  entirely 
below  him  ?  It  is  really  the  one  man  who  feels  all  those 
different  contacts ;  it  is  really  the  one  man  who  feels  all 
these  different  thought-images,  and  is  real,  living  and 
loving  in  all  of  them.  You  have  him  there  always  at  his 
best,  for  this  is  a  far  fuller  expression  than  the  physical 
plane  could  ever  give,  even  under  the  best  of  circum- 
stances. 

Will  this  affect  the  evolution  of  the  friend  in  any 
way,  it  may  be  asked?  Certainly  it  will,  for  it  allows 
him  an  additional  opportunity  of  manifestation.  If  he 
has  a  physical  body  he  is  already  learning  physical  les- 
sons through  it,  but  this  enables  him  at  the  very  same 

33 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

time  to  develop  the  quality  of  affection  much  more  rapid- 
ly through  the  form  on  the  mental  plane  which  you  have 
given  him.  So  your  love  for  him  is  doing  great  things 
for  him.  As  we  have  said,  the  soul  may  manifest  in 
many  images  if  he  is  fortunate  enough  to  have  them 
made  for  him.  One  who  is  much  loved  by  many  people 
may  have  part  in  many  heavens  simultaneously,  and  so 
may  evolve  with  far  greater  rapidity;  but  this  vast  ad- 
ditional opportunity  is  the  direct  result  and  reward  of 
those  lovable  qualities  which  drew  towards  him  the  af- 
fectionate regard  of  so  many  of  his  fellowmen.  So  not 
only  does  he  receive  love  from  all  these,  but  through  that 
receiving  he  himself  grows  in  love,  whether  these  friends 
be  living  or  dead. 

We  should  observe,  however,  that  there  are  two  possi- 
ble limitations  to  the  perfection  of  this  intercourse. 
First,  your  image  of  your  friend  may  be  partial  and  im- 
perfect, so  that  many  of  his  higher  qualities  may  not  be 
represented,  and  may  therefore  be  unable  to  show  them- 
selves forth  through  it.  Then,  secondly,  there  may  be 
some  difficulty  from  your  friend's  side.  You  may  have 
formed  a  conception  somewhat  inaccurately;  if  your 
friend  be  as  yet  not  a  highly  evolved  soul,  it  is  possible 
that  you  may  even  have  overrated  him  in  some  direction, 
and  in  that  case  there  might  be  some  aspect  of  your 
thought  image  which  he  could  not  completely  fill.  This, 
however,  is  unlikely,  and  could  only  take  place  when  a 
quite  unworthy  object  had  been  unwisely  idolized.  Even 
then  the  man  who  made  the  image  would  not  find  any 
change  or  lack  in  his  friend,  for  the  latter  is  at  least 
better  able  to  fulfil  his  ideal  than  he  has  ever  been  during 
physical  life.  Being  undeveloped,  he  may  not  be  per- 
fect, but  at  least  he  is  better  than  ever  before,  so  nothing 
is  wanting  to  the  joy  of  the  dweller  in  heaven.  Your 
friend  can  fill  hundreds  of  images  with  those  qualities 
which  he  possesses,  but  when  a  quality  is  as  yet  unde- 
veloped in  him,  he  does  not  suddenly  evolve  it  because 
you  have  supposed  him  already  to  have  attained  it. 

34 


OUR   FRIENDS    IN   HEAVEN. 

Here  is  the  enormous  advantage  which  those  have  who 
form  images  only  of  those  who  cannot  disappoint  them — 
or,  since  there  could  be  no  disappointment,  we  should 
rather  say,  of  those  capable  of  rising  above  even  the 
highest  conception  that  the  lower  mind  can  form  of  them. 
The  Theosophist  who  forms  in  his  mind  the  image  of 
the  Master  knows  that  all  the  inadequacy  will  be  on  his 
own  side,  for  he  is  drawing  there  upon  a  depth  of  love 
and  power  which  his  mental  plummet  can  never  sound. 

But,  it  may  be  asked,  since  the  soul  spends  so  large 
a  proportion  of  his  time  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  bliss 
of  this  heaven-world,  what  are  his  opportunities  of  de- 
velopment during  his  stay  there  ?  They  may  be  divided 
into  three  classes,  though  of  each  there  may  be  many 
varieties.  First,  tlirough  certain  qualities  in  himself  he 
has  opened  certain  windows  into  this  heaven-world;  by 
the  continued  exercise  of  those  qualities  through  so  long 
a  time  he  will  greatly  strengthen  them,  and  will  return  to 
earth  for  his  next  incarnation  very  richly  dowered  in 
that  respect.  All  thoughts  are  intensified  by  reiteration, 
and  the  man  who  spends  a  thousand  years  principally  in 
pouring  forth  unselfish  affection  will  assuredly  at  the 
end  of  that  period  know  how  to  love  strongly  and  well. 

Secondly,  if  through  his  window  he  pours  forth  an 
aspiration  which  brings  him  into  contact  with  one  of 
the  great  orders  of  spirits,  he  will  certainly  acquire  much 
from  his  intercourse  with  them.  In  music  they  will  use 
all  kinds  of  overtones  and  variants  which  were  previ- 
ously unknown  to  him;  in  art  they  are  familiar  with  a 
thousand  types  of  which  he  has  had  no  conception.  But 
all  of  these  will  gradually  impress  themselves  upon  him, 
and  in  this  way  also  he  will  come  out  of  that  glorious 
heaven-life  richer  far  than  he  entered  it. 

Thirdly,  he  will  gain  additional  information  through 
the  mental  images  which  he  has  made,  if  these  people 
themselves  are  sufficiently  developed  to  be  able  to  teach 
him.  Once  more,  the  Theosophist  who  has  made  the 
image  of  a  Master  will  obtain  very  definite  teaching  and 

35 


THE   LIFE   APTEB  DEATH 

help  through  it,  and  in  a  lesser  degree  this  is  possible 
with  lesser  people. 

Above  and  beyond  all  this  comes  the  life  of  the  soul 
or  ego  in  his  own  causal  body — ^the  vehicle  which  he 
carries  on  with  him  from  life  to  life,  unchanging  except 
for  its  gradual  evolution.  There  comes  an  end  even  to 
that  glorious  heaven-life,  and  then  the  mental  body  in 
its  turn  drops  away  as  the  others  have  done,  and  the 
life  in  the  causal  begins.  Here  the  soul  needs  no  win- 
dows, for  this  is  his  true  home,  and  here  all  his  walls 
have  fallen  away.  The  majority  of  men  have  as  yet  but 
very  little  consciousness  at  such  a  height  as  this:  they 
rest,  dreamily  unobservant  and  scarcely  awake,  but  such 
vision  as  they  have  is  true,  however  limited  by  their 
lack  of  development.  Still,  every  time  they  return  these 
limitations  will  be  smaller,  and  they  themselves  will  be 
greater,  so  that  this  truest  life  will  be  wider  and  fuller 
"  for  them.  As  the  improvement  continues,  this  causal 
life  grows  longer  and  longer,  assuming  an  ever  larger 
proportion,  as  compared  to  the  existence  at  lower  levels. 
And  as  he  grows  the  man  becomes  capable  not  only  of 
receiving,  but  of  giving.  Then,  indeed,  is  his  triumph 
approaching,  for  he  is  learning  the  lesson  of  the  Christ, 
learning  the  crowning  glory  of  sacrifice,  the  supreme  de- 
light of  pouring  out  all  his  life  for  the  helping  of  his 
fellow-men,  the  devotion  of  the  self  to  the  all,  of  celes- 
tial strength  to  human  service,  of  all  these  splendid 
heavenly  forces  to  the  aid  of  struggling  sons  of  earth. 
That  is  part  of  the  life  that  lies  before  us;  these  are 
some  of  the  steps  which  even  we,  who  are  as  yet  at  the 
very  bottom  of  the  golden  ladder,  may  see  rising  above  us, 
so  that  we  may  report  them  to  you  who  have  not  seen 
them  yet,  in  order  that  you,  too,  may  open  your  eyes  to  the 
unimaginable  splendor  which  surrounds  you  here  and 
now  in  this  dull  daily  life.  This  is  part  of  the  gospel 
which  Theosophy  brings  to  you — the  certainty  of  this 
sublime  future  for  all.  It  is  certain  because  it  is  here 
already,  because  to  inherit  it  we  have  only  to  fit  ourselves 
for  it. 

36 


CHAPTER  VII. 

GUARDIAN  ANGELS. 

To  my  mind  it  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  points 
about  our  Theosophical  teaching  that  it  gives  back  to 
a  man  all  the  most  useful  and  helpful  beliefs  of  the  re- 
ligions which  he  has  outgrown.  There  are  many  who, 
though  they  feel  that  they  cannot  bring  themselves  to 
accept  much  that  they  used  to  take  as  a  matter  of  course, 
nevertheless  look  back  with  a  certain  amount  of  regret  to 
some  of  the  prettier  ideas  of  their  mental  childhood. 
They  have  come  up  out  of  the  twilight  into  fuller  light, 
and  they  are  thankful  for  the  fact,  and  they  could  not 
return  into  their  former  attitude  if  they  would;  yet 
some  of  the  dreams  of  the  twilight  were  lovely,  and  the 
fuller  light  seems  sometimes  a  little  hard  in  comparison 
with  its  softer  tints.  Theosophy  comes  to  their  rescue 
here,  and  shows  them  that  all  the  glory  and  the  beauty 
and  the  poetry,  glimpses  of  which  they  used  dimly  to 
catch  in  their  twilight,  exists  as  a  living  reality,  and 
that  instead  of  disappearing  before  the  noonday  glow, 
its  splendor  will  be  only  the  more  vividly  displayed 
thereby.  But  our  teaching  gives  them  back  their  poetry 
on  quite  a  new  basis — a  basis  of  scientific  fact  instead  of 
uncertain  tradition.  A  very  good  example  of  such  a 
belief  is  to  be  found  under  our  title  of  *' Guardian 
Angels."  There  are  many  graceful  traditions  of  spirit- 
ual guardianship  and  angelic  intervention  which  we 
should  all  very  much  like  to  believe  if  we  could  only  see 

87 


THE   LIFE   AFTEE.  DEATH 

our  way  to  accept  them  rationally,  and  I  hope  to  explain 
that  to  a  very  large  extent  we  may  do  this. 

The  belief  in  such  intervention  is  a  very  old  one. 
Among  the  earliest  Indian  legends  we  find  accounts  of 
the  occasional  appearances  of  minor  deities  at  critical 
points  in  human  affairs ;  the  Greek  epics  are  full  of  simi- 
lar stories,  and  in  the  history  of  Rome  itself  we  read  how 
the  heavenly  twins.  Castor  and  Pollux,  led  the  armies 
of  the  infant  republic  at  the  battle  of  Lake  Regillus.  In 
mediaeval  days  St.  James  is  recorded  to  have  led  the 
Spanish  troops  to  victory,  and  there  are  many  tales  of 
angels  who  watched  over  the  pious  wayfarer,  or  inter- 
fered at  the  right  moment  to  protect  him  from  harm. 
^* Merely  a  popular  superstition,^'  the  superior  person 
will  say ;  perhaps,  but  wherever  we  encounter  a  popular 
superstition  which  is  widely-spread  and  persistent,  we 
almost  invariably  find  some  kernal  of  truth  behind  it — 
distorted  and  exaggerated  often,  yet  a  truth  still.  And 
this  is  a  case  in  point. 

Most  religions  speak  to  men  of  guardian  angels,  who 
stand  by  them  in  times  of  sorrow  and  trouble ;  and 
Christianity  was  no  exception  to  this  rule.  But  for  its 
sins  there  came  upon  Christendom  the  blight  which  by 
an  extraordinary  inversion  of  truth  was  called  the  Re- 
formation, and  in  that  ghastly  upheaval  very  much  was 
lost  that  for  the  majority  of  us  has  not  even  yet  been 
regained.  That  terrible  abuses  existed,  and  that  a  re- 
form was  needed  in  the  church  I  should  be  the  last  to 
deny:  yet  surely  the  Reformation  was  a  very  heavy 
judgment  for  the  sins  which  had  preceded  it.  What  is 
called  Protestantism  has  emptied  and  darkened  the 
world  for  its  votaries,  for  among  many  strange  and 
gloomy  falsehoods  it  has  endeavored  to  propagate  the 
theory  that  nothing  exists  to  occupy  the  infinity  of 
stages  between  the  divine  and  the  human.  It  offers  us 
the  amazing  conception  of  a  constant  capricious  inter- 
ference by  the  Ruler  of  the  universe  with  the  working 
of  His  own  laws  and  the  result  of  His  own  decrees,  and 

38 


GUARDIAN  ANGELS 

this  usually  at  the  request  of  His  creatures,  who  are  ap- 
parently supposed  to  know  better  than  He  what  is  good 
for  them.  It  would  be  impossible,  if  one  could  ever  come 
to  believe  this,  to  divest  one 's  mind  of  the  idea  that  such 
interference  might  be  and  indeed  must  be,  partial  and 
unjust.  In  Theosophy  we  have  no  such  thought,  for  we 
hold  the  belief  in  perfect  Divine  justice,  and  therefore 
we  recognize  that  there  can  be  no  intervention  unless  the 
person  involved  has  deserved  such  help.  Even  then,  it 
would  come  to  him  through  agents,  and  never  by  direct 
Divine  interposition.  We  know  from  our  study,  and 
many  of  us  from  our  experience  also,  that  many  inter- 
mediate stages  exist  between  the  human  and  the  Divine. 
The  old  belief  in  angels  and  archangels  is  justified  by 
the  facts,  for  just  as  there  are  various  kingdoms  below 
humanity,  so  there  are  also  kingdoms  above  it  in  evolu- 
tion. We  find  next  above  us,  holding  much  the  same 
position  with  regard  to  us  that  we  in  turn  hold  to  the 
animal  kingdom,  the  great  kingdom  of  the  devas  or 
angels,  and  above  them  again  an  evolution  which  has 
been  called  that  of  the  Dhyan  Chohans,  or  archangels 
(though  the  names  given  to  these  orders  matter  little), 
and  so  onward  and  upward  to  the  very  feet  of  Divinity. 
All  is  one  graduated  life,  from  God  Himself  to  the  very 
dust  beneath  our  feet — one  long  ladder,  of  which  hu- 
manity occupies  only  one  of  the  steps.  There  are  many 
steps  below  us  and  above  us,  and  every  one  of  them  is 
occupied.  It  would  indeed  be  absurd  for  us  to  suppose 
that  we  constitute  the  highest  possible  form  of  develop- 
ment— the  ultimate  achievement  of  evolution.  The  oc- 
casional appearance  among  humanity  of  men  much  fur- 
ther advanced  shows  us  our  next  stage,  and  furnishes 
us  with  an  example  to  follow.  Men  such  as  the  Buddha 
and  the  Christ,  and  many  other  lesser  teachers,  exhibit 
before  our  eyes  a  grand  ideal  towards  which  we  may 
work,  however  far  from  its  attainment  we  may  find  our- 
selves at  the  present  moment. 

If  special  interventions  in  human  affairs  occasionally 


THE   LIFE  AFTEE  DEATH 

take  place,  is  it  then  to  the  angelic  hosts  that  we  may 
look  as  the  probable  agents  employed  in  them?  Per- 
haps sometimes,  but  very  rarely,  for  these  higher  beings 
have  their  own  work  to  do,  connected  with  their  place 
in  the  mighty  scheme  of  things,  and  they  are  little  likely 
either  to  notice  or  to  interfere  with  us.  Man  is  uncon- 
sciously so  extraordinarily  conceited  that  he  is  prone  to 
think  that  all  the  greater  powers  in  the  universe  ought 
to  be  watching  over  him,  and  ready  to  help  him  when- 
ever he  suffers  through  his  own  folly  or  ignorance.  He 
forgets  that  he  is  not  engaged  in  acting  as  a  beneficent 
providence  to  the  kingdoms  below  him,  or  going  out  of 
his  way  to  look  after  and  help  the  wild  animals.  Some- 
times he  plays  to  them  the  part  of  the  orthodox  devil, 
and  breaks  into  their  innocent  and  harmles  lives  with 
torture  and  wanton  destruction,  merely  to  gratify  his 
own  degraded  lust  of  cruelty,  which  he  chooses  to  de- 
nominate *  *  sport ' ' ;  sometimes  he  holds  animals  in  bond- 
age, and  takes  a  certain  amount  of  care  of  them,  but 
it  is  only  that  they  may  work  for  him — not  that  he  may 
forward  their  evolution  in  the  abstract.  How  can  he 
expect  from  those  above  him  a  type  of  supervision  which 
he  is  so  very  far  from  giving  to  those  below  him?  It 
may  well  be  that  the  angelic  kingdom  goes  about  its  own 
business,  taking  little  more  notice  of  us  than  we  take 
of  the  sparrows  in  the  trees.  It  may  now  and  then 
happen  that  an  angel  becomes  aware  of  some  human 
sorrow  or  difficulty  which  moves  his  pity,  and  he  may 
try  to  help  us,  just  as  we  might  try  to  assist  an  animal 
in  distress;  but  certainly  his  wider  vision  would  recog- 
nize the  fact  that  at  the  present  stage  of  evolution  such 
interpositions  would  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases  be 
productive  of  infinitely  more  harm  than  good.  In  the 
far-distant  past  man  was  frequently  assisted  by  these 
non-human  agencies  because  then  there  were  none  as 
yet  among  our  infant  humanity  capable  of  taking  the 
lead  as  teachers ;  but  now  that  we  are  attaining  our  ado- 
lescence, we  are  supposed  to  have  arrived  at  a  stage 

40 


GUAEDIAN  ANGELS 

when  we  can  provide  leaders  and  helpers  from  among 
our  own  ranks. 

There  is  another  kingdom  of  nature  of  which  little  is 
known — that  of  nature-spirits  or  fairies.  Here  again 
popular  tradition  has  preserved  a  trace  of  the  existence 
of  an  order  of  beings  unknown  to  science.  They  have 
been  spoken  of  under  many  names — pixies,  gnomes,  ko- 
bolds,  brownies,  sylphs,  undines,  good  people,  etc.,  and 
there  are  few  lands  in  whose  folk-lore  they  do  not  play 
a  part.  They  are  beings  possessing  either  astral  or 
etheric  bodies,  and  consequently  it  is  only  rarely  and 
under  peculiar  circumstances  that  they  become  visible 
to  man.  They  usually  avoid  his  neighborhood,  for  they 
dislike  his  wild  outbursts  of  passion  and  desire,  so  that 
when  they  are  seen  it  is  generally  in  some  lonely  spot, 
and  by  some  mountaineer  or  shepherd  whose  work  takes 
him  far  from  the  busy  haunts  of  the  crowd.  It  has  some- 
times happened  that  one  of  these  creatures  has  become 
attached  to  some  human  being,  and  devoted  himself  to 
his  service,  as  will  be  found  in  stories  of  the  Scottish 
Highlands ;  but  as  a  rule  intelligent  assistance  is  hardly 
to  be  expected  from  entities  of  this  class. 

Then  there  are  the  great  adepts,  the  Masters  of  Wis- 
dom— men  like  ourselves,  yet  so  much  more  highly 
evolved  that  to  us  they  seem  as  gods  in  power,  in  wis- 
dom and  in  compassion.  Their  whole  life  is  devoted  to 
the  work  of  helping  evolution ;  would  they  therefore  be 
likely  to  intervene  sometimes  in  human  affairs?  Possi- 
bly occasionally,  but  only  very  rarely,  because  they  have 
other  and  far  greater  work  to  do.  The  ignorant  some- 
times have  suggested  that  the  Adepts  ought  to  come 
down  into  our  great  towns  and  succor  the  poor — the  ig- 
norant, I  say,  because  only  one  who  is  exceedingly  ig- 
norant and  incredibly  presumptuous  ever  ventures  to 
criticize  thus  the  action  of  those  so  infinitely  wiser  and 
greater  than  himself.  The  sensible  and  modest  man 
realizes  that  what  they  do  they  must  have  good  reason 
for  doing,  and  that  for  him  to  blame  them  would  be  the 

41 


THE   LIFE  AFTER  DEATH 

height  of  stupidity  and  ingratitude.  They  have  their 
own  work,  on  planes  far  higher  than  we  can  reach ;  they 
deal  directly  with  the  souls  of  men,  and  shine  upon  them 
as  sunlight  upon  a  flower,  drawing  them  upwards  and 
onwards,  and  filling  them  with  power  and  life ;  and  that 
is  a  grander  work  by  far  than  healing  or  caring  for  or 
feeding  their  bodies,  good  though  this  also  may  be  in  its 
place.  To  employ  them  in  working  on  the  physical 
plane  would  be  a  waste  of  force  infinitely  greater  than 
it  would  be  to  set  our  most  learned  men  of  science  to  the 
labor  of  breaking  stones  upon  the  road,  upon  the  plea 
that  that  was  a  physical  work  for  the  good  of  all,  while 
scientific  work  was  not  immediately  profitable  to  the 
poor!  It  is  not  from  the  Adept  that  physical  interven- 
tion is  likely  to  come,  for  he  is  far  more  usefully  em- 
ployed. 


42 


CHAPTER   Vm. 

HUMAN  WORKERS  IN  THE  UNSEEN. 

There  are  two  classes  from  whom  intervention  in 
human  affairs  may  come,  and  in  both  cases  they  are  men 
like  ourselves,  and  not  far  removed  from  our  own  level. 
The  first  class  consists  of  those  whom  we  call  the  dead. 
We  think  of  them  as  far  away,  but  that  Is  a  delusion; 
they  are  very  near  us,  and  though  in  their  new  life  they 
cannot  usually  see  our  physical  bodies,  they  can  and  do 
see  our  astral  vehicles,  and  therefore  they  know  all  our 
feelings  and  emotions.  So  they  know  when  we  are  in 
trouble,  and  when  we  need  help,  and  it  sometimes  hap- 
pens that  they  are  able  to  give  it.  Here,. then,  we  have 
an  enormous  number  of  possible  helpers,  who  may  occas- 
ionally intervene  in  human  affairs.  (  Occasionally,  but 
not  very  often;  for  the  dead  man  is  all  the  while  stead- 
ily withdrawing  into  himself,  and  therefore  passing 
rapidly  out  of  touch  with  earthly  things;  and  the  most 
highly  developed,  and  therefore  the  most  helpful  of  men, 
are  precisely  those  who  must  pass  away  from  earth  most 
quickly.  >  Still  there  are  undoubted  cases  in  which  the 
dead  have  intervened  in  human  affairs;  indeed,  perhaps 
such  cases  are  more  numerous  than  we  imagine,  for  in 
very  many  of  them  the  work  done  is  only  the  putting 
of  a  suggestion  into  the  mind  of  some  person  still  living 
on  the  physical  plane,  and  he  often  remains  unconscious 
of  the  source  of  his  happy  inspiration.  Sometimes  it  is 
necessary  for  the  dead  man's  purpose  that  he  should 
show  himself,  and  it  is  only  then  that  we  who  are  so 
blind  are  aware  of  his  loving  thought  for  us.    Besides, 

43 


THE   LIFE   AFTEE  DEATH 

he  cannot  always  show  himself  at  will;  there  may  be 
many  times  when  he  tries  to  help,  but  is  unable  to  do 
so,  and  we  all  the  time  know  nothing  of  his  offer.  Still 
there  are  such  cases,  and  some  of  them  will  be  found  re- 
counted in  my  book  on  The  Other  Side  of  Death, 

The  second  class  among  which  helpers  may  be  found 
consists  of  those  who  are  able  to  function  consciously 
upon  the  astral  plane  while  still  living — or  perhaps  we 
had  better  say,  while  still  in  the  physical  body,  for  the 
words  ** living''  and  **dead"  are  in  reality  ludicrously 
misapplied  in  ordinary  parlance. 

It  is  we,  immeshed  as  we  are  in  this  physical  matter, 
buried  in  the  dark  and  noisome  mist  of  earth-life,  blind- 
ed by  the  heavy  veil  that  shuts  out  from  us  so  much  of 
the  light  and  the  glory  that  are  shining  around  us— it  is 
surely  we  who  are  the  dead;  not  those  who,  having  cast 
off  for  the  time  the  burden  of  the  flesh,  stand  amongst 
us  radiant,  rejoicing,  strong,  so  much  freer,  so  much 
more  capable  than  we. 

These  who,  while  still  in  the  physical  world,  have 
learnt  to  use  their  astral  bodies,  and  in  some  cases  their 
mental  bodies  also,  are  usually  the  pupils  of  the  great 
Adepts  before-mentioned.  They  cannot  do  the  work 
which  the  Master  does,  for  their  powers  are  not  de- 
veloped; they  cannot  yet  function  freely  on  those  lofty 
planes  where  He  can  produce  such  magnificent  results; 
but  they  can  do  something  at  lower  levels,  and  they  are 
thankful  to  serve  in  whatever  way  He  thinks  best  for 
them,  and  to  undertake  such  work  as  is  within  their 
power.  So  sometimes  it  happens  that  they  see  some 
human  trouble  or  suffering  which  they  are  able  to  allevi- 
ate, and  they  gladly  try  to  do  what  they  can.  They  are 
often  able  to  help  both  the  living  and  the  dead,  but  it 
must  always  be  remembered  that  they  work  under  condi- 
tions. When  such  power  and  such  training  are  given  to 
a  man,  they  are  given  to  him  under  restrictions.  He 
must  never  use  them  selfishly,  never  display  them  to 
gratify  curiosity,  never  employ  them  to  pry  into  the 

44 


Fi.e:.   6. 


HUMAN  WORKERS  IN  THE  UNSEEN. 

business  of  others,  never  give  what  at  Spiritualistic  se- 
ances are  called  tests — that  is  to  say,  he  must  never  do 
anything  which  can  be  proved  as  a  phenomenon  on  the 
physical  plane.  He  might  if  he  chose  take  a  message  to 
a  dead  man,  but  it  would  be  beyond  his  province  to  bring 
back  a  reply  from  the  dead  to  the  living,  unless  it  were 
under  direct  instructions  from  the  Master.  Thus  the 
band  of  invisible  helpers  does  not  constitute  itself  into  a 
detective  office,  nor  into  an  astral  information  bureau, 
but  it  simply  and  quietly  does  such  work  as  is  given  to 
it  to  do,  or  as  comes  in  its  way. 

Let  us  see  how  a  man  is  able  to  do  such  work  and  give 
such  help  as  we  have  described,  so  that  we  may  under- 
stand what  are  the  limits  of  this  power,  and  see  how  we 
ourselves  may  to  some  extent  attain  it.  We  must  first 
think  how  a  man  leaves  his  body  in  sleep.  He  abandons 
the  physical  body,  in  order  that  it  may  have  complete 
rest ;  but  he  himself,  the  soul,  needs  no  rest,  for  he  feels 
no  fatigue.  It  is  only  the  physical  body  that  ever  be- 
comes tired.  When  we  speak  of  mental  fatigue  it  is  in 
reality  a  misnomer,  for  it  is  the  brain  and  not  the  mind 
that  is  tired.  In  sleep,  then,  the  man  is  simply  using  his 
astral  body  instead  of  his  physical,  and  it  is  only  that 
body  that  is  asleep,  not  the  man  himself.  If  we 
examine  a  sleeping  savage  with  clairvoyant  sight,  in- 
deed, we  shall  probably  find  that  he  is  nearly  as  much 
asleep  as  his  body — that  he  has  very  little  definite  con- 
sciousness in  the  astral  vehicle  which  he  is  inhabiting. 
He  is  unable  to  move  away  from  the  immediate  neigh- 
borhood of  the  sleeping  physical  body,  and  if  an  attempt 
were  made  to  draw  him  away  he  would  wake  in  terror. 
If  we  examine  a  more  civilized  man,  as  for  example 
one  of  ourselves,  we  shall  find  a  very  great  difference. 
In  this  case  the  man  in  his  astral  body  is  by  no  means 
unconscious,  but  quite  actively  thinking.  Nevertheless, 
he  may  be  taking  very  little  more  notice  of  his  surround- 
ings than  the  savage,  though  not  at  all  for  the  same 
reason.    The  savage  is  incapable  of  seeing;  the  civilized 

45 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

man  is  so  wrapped  up  in  his  own  thought  that  he  does 
not  see,  though  he  could.  He  has  behind  him  the  im- 
memorial custom  of  a  long  series  of  lives  in  which  the 
astral  faculties  have  not  been  used,  for  these  faculties 
have  been  gradually  growing  inside  a  shell,  something 
as  a  chicken  grows  inside  the  egg.  {^he  shell  is  composed 
of  the  great  mass  of  self -centered  thought  in  which  the 
ordinary  man  is  so  hopelessly  entombed. )  Whatever  may 
have  been  the  thoughts  chiefly  engaging  his  mind  during 
the  past  day,  he  usually  continues  them  when  falling 
asleep,  and  he  is  thus  surrounded  by  so  dense  a  wall  of 
his  own  making  that  he  practically  knows  nothing  of 
what  is  going  on  outside.  Occasionally  some  violent  im- 
pact from  without,  or  some  strong  desire  of  his  own  from 
within,  may  tear  aside  this  curtain  of  mist  for  the 
moment  and  permit  him  to  receive  some  definite  im- 
pression; but  even  then  the  fog  closes  in  again  almost 
immediately,  and  he  dreams  on  unobservantly  as  before. 
Can  he  be  awakened,  you  will  say?  Yes,  that  may 
happen  to  him  in  four  different  ways.  First  in  the  far- 
distant  future  the  slow  but  sure  evolution  of  the  man 
will  undoubtedly  gradually  dissipate  the  curtain  of  the 
mist ;  Secondly,  the  man  himself,  having  learnt  the  facts 
of  the  case,  may  by  steady  and  persistent  effort  clear 
away  the  mist  from  within,  and  by  degrees  overcome 
the  inertia  resulting  from  ages  of  inactivity.  He  may 
resolve  before  going  to  sleep  to  try  when  he  leaves  his 
body  to  awaken  himself  and  see  something.  This  is 
merely  a  hastening  of  the  natural  process,  and  there  will 
be  no  harm  in  it  if  the  man  has  previously  developed 
common  sense  and  the  moral  qualities.  If  these  are  de- 
fective, he  may  come  very  sadly  to  grief,  for  he  runs 
the  double  danger  of  misusing  such  powers  as  he  may 
acquire,  and  of  being  overwhelmed  by  fear  in  the  pres- 
ence of  forces  which  he  can  neither  understand  nor  con- 
trol. Thirdly,  it  has  sometimes  happened  that  some  ac- 
cident, or  some  unlawful  use  of  magical  ceremonies, 
has  so  rent  the  veil  that  it  can  never  wholly  be  closed 

46 


HUMAN  WORKERS  IN  THE  UNSEEN. 

again.  In  such  a  case  the  man  may  be  left  in  the  terri- 
ble condition  so  well  described  by  Madame  Blavatsky  in 
her  story  of  A  Bewitched  Life,  or  by  Lord  Lytton  in  his 
powerful  novel  Zanoni.  Fourthly,  some  friend  who 
knows  the  man  thoroughly,  and  believes  him  capable  of 
facing  the  dangers  of  the  astral  plane  and  doing  good 
unselfish  work  there,  may  act  upon  this  cloud-shell  from 
without  and  gradually  arouse  the  man  to  his  higher  pos- 
sibilities. But  he  will  never  do  this  unless  he  feels  abso- 
lutely sure  of  him,  of  his  courage  and  devotion,  and  of 
his  possession  of  the  necessary  qualifications  for  good 
work.  If  in  all  these  ways  he  is  judged  satisfactory,  he 
may  thus  be  invited  and  enabled  to  join  the  band  of 
helpers. 

Now,  as  to  the  work  such  helpers  can  do.  I  have 
given  many  illustrations  of  this  in  the  little  book  which  I 
have  written,  bearing  the  title  of  Invisible  Helpers,  so  I 
will  not  repeat  those  stories  now,  but  rather  give  you  a 
few  leading  ideas  as  to  the  different  types  of  work  which 
are  most  usually  done.  Naturally  it  is  of  varied  kinds,  and 
most  of  it  is  not  in  any  way  physical;  perhaps  it  may 
best  be  divided  into  work  with  the  living,  and  work 
with  the  dead. 

The  giving  of  comfort  and  consolation  in  sorrow  or 
sickness  at  once  suggests  itself  as  a  comparatively  easy 
task,  and  one  that  can  constantly  be  performed  without 
anyone  knowing  who  does  it. 

Often  efforts  are  made  to  patch  up  quarrels — ^to  ef- 
fect a  reconciliation  between  those  who  long  have  been 
separated  by  some  difference  of  opinions  or  of  interests. 
Sometimes  it  has  been  possible  to  warn  men  of  some 
great  danger  which  impended  over  their  heads,  and  thus 
to  avert  an  accident.  There  have  been  cases  in  which 
this  has  been  done  even  with  regard  to  a  purely  physi- 
cal matter,  though  more  generally  it  is  against  moral 
danger  that  such  warnings  are  given.  Occasionally  it 
has  been  permissible  to  offer  a  solemn  warning  to  one 
who  was  leading  an  immoral  life,  and  so  to  help  him  back 

47.. 


THE   LIFE  AFTER  DEATH 

into  the  path  of  rectitude.  If  the  helpers  happen  to  know 
of  a  time  of  special  trouble  for  a  friend,  they  will  en- 
deavor to  stand  by  him  through  it,  and  to  give  him 
strength  and  comfort. 

In  great  catastrophes,  too,  there  is  often  much  that 
can  be  done  by  those  whose  work  is  unrecognized  by  the 
outer  world.  Sometimes  it  may  be  permitted  that  some 
one  or  two  persons  may  be  saved;  and  so  it  comes  that 
in  accounts  of  terrible  wholesale  destruction  we  hear 
now  and  then  of  escapes  which  are  esteemed  miraculous. 
But  this  is  only  when  among  those  who  are  in  danger 
there  is  one  who  is  not  to  die  in  that  way — one  who  owes 
to  the  Divine  law  no  debt  that  can  be  paid  in  that 
fashion.  In  the  great  majority  of  cases  all  that  can  be 
done  is  to  make  some  effort  to  impart  strength  and  cour- 
age to  face  what  must  happen,  and  then  afterwards  to 
meet  the  souls  as  they  arrive  upon  the  astral  plane,  and 
welcome  and  assist  them  there. 


48 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HELPING  THE  DEAD. 

This  brings  us  to  the  consideration  of  what  is  by  far 
the  greatest  and  most  important  part  of  the  work — ^the 
helping  of  the  dead.  Before  we  can  understand  this  we 
must  throw  aside  altogether  the  ordinary  clumsy  and 
erroneous  ideas  about  death  and  the  condition  of  the 
dead.  They  are  not  far  away  from  us,  they  are  not  sud- 
denly entirely  changed,  they  have  not  become  angels  or 
demons.  They  are  just  human  beings,  exactly  such  as 
^ey  were  before,  neither  better  nor  worse,  and  they 
stand  close  by  us  still,  sensitive  to  our  feelings  and  our 
thoughts  even  more  than  of  yore.  That  is  why  uncon- 
trolled grief  for  the  dead  is  so  wrong  as  well  as  so  sel- 
fish. The  dead  man  feels  every  emotion  which  passes 
through  the  heart  of  his  loved  ones,  and  if  they  uncom- 
prehendingly  give  way  to  sorrow,  that  throws  a  corre- 
sponding cloud  of  depression  over  him,  and  makes  his 
way  harder  than  it  need  be  if  his  friends  had  been  better 
taught. 

So  there  is  much  help  that  may  be  given  to  the  dead 
in  very  many  ways.  First  of  all,  many  of  them — ^indeed, 
most  of  them — need  much  explanation  with  regard  to  the 
new  world  in  which  they  find  themselves.  Their  religion 
ought  to  have  taught  them  what  to  expect,  and  how  to 
live  amid  these  new  conditions ;  but  in  most  cases  it  has 
not  done  anything  of  the  kind.  So  it  comes  that  very 
many  of  them  are  in  a  condition  of  considerable  un- 
easiness, and  others  of  positive  terror.  They  need  to  be 
soothed  and  comforted,   for  when  they  encounter  the 

49 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

dreadful  thought-forms  which  they  and  their  kind  have 
been  making  for  centuries — thoughts  of  a  personal  devil 
and  an  angry  and  cruel  deity — they  are  often  reduced 
to  a  pitiable  state  of  fear,  which  is  not  only  exceedingly 
unpleasant,  but  very  bad  for  their  evolution;  and  it 
often  costs  the  helper  much  time  and  trouble  to  bring 
them  into  a  more  reasonable  frame  of  mind. 

There  are  men  to  whom  this  entry  into  a  new  life 
seems  to  give  for  the  first  time  an  opportunity  to  see 
themselves  as  they  really  are,  and  some  of  them  are 
therefore  filled  with  remorse.  Here  again  the  helper's 
services  are  needed  to  explain  that  what  is  past  is  past, 
and  that  the  only  effective  repentance  is  the  resolve  to  do 
this  thing  no  more-l-that  whatever  the  dead  man  may 
have  done,  he  is  not  a  lost  soul,  but  that  he  must  simply 
begin  from  where  he  finds  himself,  and  try  to  live  the 
true  life  for  the  future.  "^^  Some  of  them  cling  passion- 
ately to  earth,  where  all  their  thoughts  and  interests 
have  been  fixed,  and  they  suffer  much  when  they  find 
themselves  losing  hold  and  sight  of  it.)  Others  are  earth- 
bound  by  the  thought  of  crimes  that  they  have  com- 
mitted, or  duties  that  they  have  left  undone,  while  others 
in  turn  are  worried  about  the  condition  of  those  whom 
they  have  left  behind.  All  these  are  cases  which  need 
explanation,  and  sometimes  it  is  also  necessary  for  the 
helper  to  take  steps  on  the  physical  plane  in  order  to 
carry  out  the  wishes  of  the  dead  man,  and  so  leave  him 
free  and  untroubled  to  pass  on  to  higher  matters.  People 
are  inclined  ^to  look  at  the  dark  side  of  Spiritualism ;  but 
we  must  never  forget  that  it  has  done  an  enormous 
amount  of  good  in  this  sort  of  work — in  giving  to  the 
dead  an  opportunity  to  arrange  their  affairs  after  a 
sudden  and  unexpected  departure. 

I  (It  is  surely  a  happy  thought  that  the  time  of  much- 
needed  repose  for  the  body  is  not  necessarily  a  period 
of  inactivity  for  the  true  man  within.',  I  used  at  one 
time  to  feel  that  the  time  given  to  sleep  was  sadly  wasted 
time ;  now  I  understand  that  Nature  does  not  so  misman- 

50 


HELPING  THE  DEAD. 

age  her  affairs  as  to  lose  one-third  of  the  man's  life.  Of 
course  there  are  qualifications  required  for  this  work; 
but  I  have  given  them  so  carefully  and  at  length  in  my 
little  book  on  the  subject*  that  I  need  only  just  mention 
them  here.  First,  he  must  be  one-pointed,  and  the  work 
of  helping  others  must  be  ever  the  first  and  highest  duty 
for  him.  Secondly,  he  must  have  perfect  self-control — 
control  over  his  temper  and  his  nerves.  He  must  never 
allow  his  emotions  to  interfere  with  his  work  in  the 
slightest  degree;  he  must  be  above  anger,  and  above 
fear.  Thirdly,  he  must  have  perfect  calmness,  serenity 
and  joyousness.  Men  subject  to  depression  and  worry 
are  useless,  for  one  great  part  of  the  work  is  to  soothe 
and  to  calm  others,  and  how  can  they  do  that  if  they 
are  all  the  time  in  a  whirl  of  excitement  or  worry  them- 
selves? Fourthly,  the  man  must  have  knowledge;  he 
must  have  already  learnt  down  here  on  this  plane  all 
that  he  can  about  the  other,  for  he  cannot  expect  that 
men  there  will  waste  valuable  time  in  teaching  him 
what  he  might  have  acquired  for  himself.  Fifthly,  he 
must  be  perfectly  unselfish.  He  must  be  above  the 
foolishness  of  wounded  feelings,  and  must  think  not  of 
himself  but  of  the  work  that  he  has  to  do,  so  that  he  will 
be  glad  to  take  the  humblest  duty  or  the  greatest  duty 
without  envy  on  the  one  hand  or  conceit  on  the  other. 
Sixthly,  he  must  have  a  heart  filled  with  love- — not  senti- 
mentalism,  but  the  intense  desire  to  serve,  to  become  a 
channel  for  that  love  of  God  which,  like  the  peace  of 
God,  passe th  man's  understanding. 

You  may  think  that  this  is  an  impossible  standard; 
on  the  contrary,  it  is  attainable  by  every  man.  It  will 
take  time  to  reach  it,  but  assuredly  it  will  be  time  well 
spent.  Do  not  turn  away  disheartened,  but  set  to  work 
here  and  now,  and  strive  to  become  fit  for  this  glorious 
task,  and  while  we  are  striving,  do  not  let  us  wait  idly, 
but  try  to  undertake  some  little  piece  of  work  along  the 

*  Invisible  Helpers. 

51 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

same  lines.  Every  one  knows  some  case  of  sorrow  or 
distress,  whether  among  the  living  or  the  dead  does  not 
matter ;  if  you  know  such  a  case,  take  it  into  your  mind 
when  you  lie  down  to  sleep,  and  resolve  as  soon  as  you 
are  free  from  this  body  to  go  to  that  person  and  endeavor 
to  comfort  him.  You  may  not  be  conscious  of  the  re- 
sult, you  may  not  remember  anything  of  it  in  the  morn- 
ing; but  be  well  assured  that  your  resolve  will  not  be 
fruitless,  and  that  whether  you  remember  what  you  have 
done  or  not,  you  will  be  quite  sure  to  have  done  some- 
thing. Some  day  sooner  or  later  you  will  find  evidence 
that  you  have  been  successful.  Remember  that  as  we 
help,  we  can  be  helped;  remember  that  from  the  lowest 
to  the  highest  we  are  bound  together  by  one  long  chain  of 
mutual  service,  and  that  although  we  stand  on  the  lower 
steps  of  the  ladder,  it  reaches  up  above  these  earthly 
mists  to  where  the  light  of  God  is  always  shining. 


52 


CHAPTER  X. 

THOUGHTS  ARE  THINGS. 

Reference  has  been  made  to  the  fact  that  thought  and 
emotion,  besides  the  effect  which  they  produce  upon  the 
physical  body,  cause  vibration  in  the  subtler  bodies  ap- 
propriate to  them — the  astral  and  mental  bodies  by 
which  each  human  being  is  surrounded.  The  following 
passages  from  an  article  by  Mrs.  Besant,  which  appeared 
in  1896,  will  help  to  make  the  matter  clearer,  when  read 
in  conjunction  with  the  illustrations  reproduced  in  this 
booklet* 

The  pictures  of  thought-forms  herewith  presented 
were  obtained  as  follows;  two  clairvoyant  Theosophists 
observed  the  forms  caused  by  definite  thoughts  thrown 
out  by  one  of  them,  and  also  watched  the  forms  pro- 
jected by  other  persons  under  the  influence  of  various 
emotions.  They  described  these  as  fully  and  accurately 
as  they  could  to  an  artist  who  sat  with  them,  and  he  made 
sketches  and  mixed  colors,  till  some  approximation  to  the 
objects  was  made.  Unfortunately  the  clairvoyants  could 
not  draw  and  the  artist  could  not  see,  so  the  arrangement 
was  a  little  like  that  of  the  blind  and  lame  men — the 
blind  men  having  good  legs  carried  the  lame  ones,  and 
the  lame  men  having  good  eyes  guided  the  blind.  The 
artist  at  his  leisure  painted  the  forms,  and  then  another 
committee  was  held  and  sat  upon  the  paintings  and  in 
the  light  of  the  criticisms  then  made  our  long-suffering 

*  For  a  fuller  account  of  these  researches  see  ''Thought  Forms," 
by  Annie  Besant  and  C.  W.  Leadbeater,  with  thirty  full-page 
colored  plates.    Price  $3.50. 

53 


THE   LIFE   AFTEE  DEATH 

brother  painted  an  almost  entirely  new  set — the  most 
successful  attempt  that  has  hitherto  been  made  to  present 
these  elusive  shapes  in  the  dull  pigments  of  earth. 

All  students  know  that  what  is  called  the  Aura  of 
man  is  the  outer  part  of  the  cloud-like  substance  of  his 
higher  bodies,  interpenetrating  each  other,  and  extend- 
ing beyond  the  confines  of  his  physical  body,  the  smallest 
of  all.  They  know  also  that  two  of  these  bodies,  the 
mental  and  desire  bodies,  are  those  chiefly  concerned 
with  the  appearance  of  what  are  called  thought-forms. 
But  in  order  that  the  matter  may  be  made  clear  for  all, 
and  not  only  for  students  already  acquainted  with  Theo- 
sophical  teachings,  a  recapitulation  of  the  main  facts  will 
not  be  out  of  place. 

Man,  the  Thinker,  is  clothed  in  a  body  composed  of 
innumerable  combinations  of  the  subtle  matter  of  the 
mental  plane,  this  body  being  more  or  less  refined  in  its 
constituents  and  organized  more  or  less  fully  for  its 
functions,  according  to  the  stage  of  intellectual  develop- 
ment at  which  the  man  himself  has  arrived.  The  mental 
body  is  an  object  of  great  beauty^  the  delicacy  aad  rapid 
motion  of  its  particles  giving  it  an  aspect  of  living  iri- 
descent light,  and  this  beauty  becomes  an  extraordinarily 
radiant  and  entrancing  loveliness  as  the  intellect  becomes' 
more  highly  evolved  and  is  employed  chiefly  on  pure 'and 
gubiime  topics.  Every  thought  gives  rise  to  a  set  of  cor- 
related vibrations  in  the  matter  of  this  body,  accom- 
panied with  a  marvellous  play  of  color,  like  that  in  the 
spra}'  of  a  waterfall  as  the  sunlight  strikes  it,  raised  to 
the  n^^  degree  of  color  and  vivid  delicacy.  The  body 
under  this  impulse  throws  off  a  vibrating  portion  of 
itself,  shaped  by  the  nature  of  the  vibrations — as  figures 
are  made  by  sand  on  a  disk  vibrating  to  a  musical  note — 
and  this  gathers  from  the  surrounding  atmosphere  mat- 
ter like  itself  in  fineness  from  the  elemental  essence  of 
the  mental  world.  We  have  then  a  thought-form  pure 
and  simple,  and  it  is  a  living  entity  of  intense  activity 

54 


THOUGHTS  ARE   THINGS 

animated  by  the  one  idea  that  generated  it.  If  made  of 
the  finer  kinds  of  matter,  it  will  be  of  great  power  and 
energy,  and  may  be  used  as  a  most  potent  agent  when  di- 
rected by  a  strong  and  steady  will.  Into  the  details  of 
such  use  we  will  enter  later.  Such  a  thought-form,  if 
directed  to  affect  any  object  or  person  on  the  astral 
world,  will  take  to  itself  a  covering  of  astral  materials, 
of  fineness  correlated  to  its  own,  from  the  elemental  es- 
sence of  the  astral  world. 

When  the  man's  energy  flows  outwards  towards  ex- 
ternal objects  of  desire,  or  is  occupied  in  passional  and 
emotional  activities,  this  energy  works  in  a  less  subtle 
order  of  matter  than  the  mental,  in  that  of  the  astral 
world.  What  is  called  his  desire-body  is  composed  of 
this  matter,  and  it  forms  the  most  prominent  part  of  the 
aura  in  the  undeveloped  man.  Where  the  man  is  of  a 
gross  type,  the  desire-body  is  of  the  denser  matter  of  the 
astral  plane,  and  is  dull  in  hue,  browns  and  dirty  greens 
and  reds  playing  a  great  part  in  it.  Through  this  will 
flash  various  characteristic  colors,  as  his  passions  are  ex- 
cited. A  man  of  higher  type  has  his  desire-body  com- 
posed of  the  finer  qualities  of  astral  matter,  with  the  col- 
ors rippling  over  and  flashing  through  it  fine  and  clear 
in  hue.  While  less  delicate  and  less  radiant  than  the 
mental  body,  it  forms  a  beautiful  object  and  as  selfish- 
ness is  eliminated  all  the  duller  and  heavier  shades  dis- 
appear; 

Three  general  principles  underlie  the  production  of 
all  thought-forms: 

1.  Quality  of  thought  determines  color. 

2.  Nature  of  thought  determines  form. 

3.  Definiteness  of  thought   determines  clearness   of 

outline. 
Color.  Colors  depend  on  the  number  of  vibrations 
that  take  place  in  a  second,  and  this  is  true  in  the  astral 
and  mental  worlds  as  well  as  in  the  physical.  If  the 
astral  and  mental  bodies  are  vibrating  under  the  in- 
fluence of  devotion  the  aura  will  be  suffused  with  blue, 

55 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

more  or  less  intense,  beautiful  and  pure  according  to  the 
depth,  elevation  and  purity  of  the  feeling.  In  a  church, 
such  thought-forms  may  be  seen  rising,  for  the  most  part 
not  very  definitely  outlined,  but  rolling  masses  of  blue 
clouds  (Fig.  2).  Too  often  the  color  is  dulled  by  the  in- 
termixture of  selfish  feelings,  when  the  blue  is  mixed 
with  browns  and  thus  loses  its  pure  brilliancy.  But 
the  devotional  thought  of  an  unselfish  heart  is  very 
lovely  in  color,  like  the  deep  blue  of  a  summer  sky. 
Through  such  clouds  of  blue  will  often  shine  out  golden 
stars  of  great  brilliancy,  darting  upwards  like  a  shower 
of  sparks. 

Anger  gives  rise  to  red,  of  all  shades  from  lurid 
brick-red  to  brilliant  scarlet;  brutal  anger  will  show  as 
flashes  of  lurid  dull  red  from  dark-brown  clouds,  while 
the  anger  of  ** noble  indignation'^  is  a  vivid  scarlet,  by 
no  means  unbeautiful  to  look  at  though  it  gives  an  un- 
pleasant thrill. 

Affection,  love,  sends  out  clouds  of  rosy  hue  varying 
from  dull  crimson,  where  the  love  is  animal  in  its  nature, 
rose-red  mingled  with  brown  when  selfish,  or  with  dull 
green  when  jealous,  to  the  most  exquisite  shades  of  deli- 
cate rose  like  the  early  flushes  of  the  dawning,  as  the  love 
becomes  more  purified  from  all  selfish  elements,  and 
flows  out  in  wider  and  wider  circles  of  generous  imper- 
sonal tenderness  and  compassion  to  all  who  are  in  need. 

Intellect  produces  yellow  thought-forms  (Fig.  6), 
the  pure  reason  directed  to  spiritual  ends  giving  rise  to 
a  very  beautiful  delicate  yellow,  while  used  for  more 
selfish  ends  or  mingled  with  ambition  it  yields  deep 
shades  of  orange,  clear  and  intense  (Fig.  7). 

Form.  According  to  the  nature  of  the  thought  will 
be  the  form  it  generates.  In  the  thought-forms  of  devo- 
tion the  flower  which  is  figured  was  a  thought  of  pure  de- 
votion offered  to  One  worshipped  by  the  thinker,  a 
thought  of  self -surrender,  of  sacrifice  (Fig.  3). 

Such  thoughts  constantly  assume  flower-like  forms, 
exceedingly   beautiful,    varying   much    in    outline    but 

56 


THOUGHTS  ARE   THINGS 

characterized  by  curved  upward-pointing  petals  like 
azure  flames.  It  is  this  flower-like  characteristic  of  de- 
votion that  may  have  led  to  the  direction,  by  those  who 
saw,  of  offering  flowers  as  part  of  religious  worship,  fig- 
uring in  suggestive  material  forms  that  which  was  visi- 
ble in  the  astral  world,  hinting  at  things  unseen  by 
things  seen,  and  influencing  the  mind  by  an  appropriate 
symbology.  A  beam  of  blue  light,  like  a  pencil  of  rays, 
shot  upwards  towards  the  sky,  was  a  thought  of  loving 
devotion  to  the  Christ  from  the  mind  of  a  Christian. 
The  five-pointed  star  (Fig.  1,  Frontispiece),  was  a 
thought  directed  towards  the  Deity,  a  devotional  aspira- 
tion to  be  in  harmony  with  cosmic  law,  as  the  expression 
of  His  nature,  and  it  was  these  latter  elements  which 
gave  it  its  geometrical  form,  while  the  mental  constitu- 
ents added  the  yellow  rays.  Thoughts  which  assume 
geometrical  shapes,  such  as  the  circle,  cube,  pyramid, 
triangle,  pentacle,  double  triangle,  and  the  like,  are 
thoughts  concerned  with  cosmic  order,  or  they  are  meta- 
physical concepts.  Thus  if  this  star  were  yellow,  it 
would  be  a  thought  directed  intellectually  to  the  working 
of  law,  in  connection  with  the  Diety  or  with  rational 
man. 

Among  the  thought-forms  of  affection  Fig.  4  is  very 
good — a  thought  of  love,  clearly  defined  and  definitely 
directed  towards  its  object.  Fig.  5  is  a  thought  which 
is  loving  but  appropriative,  seeking  to  draw  to  itself  and 
to  hold. 

Fig.  7  is  a  characteristic  form  of  a  strong  and  ambi- 
tious thought;  it  was  taken  from  the  aura  of  a  man  of 
keen  intellect  and  noble  character,  who  was  ambitious 
(and  worthy)  to  wield  power,  and  whose  thoughts  were 
turned  to  the  public  good.  The  ambitious  element  con- 
tributes the  hooked  extensions,  just  as  the  grasping  love 
in  Fig.  5  causes  similar  protrusions. 

Clearness  of  outline.  This  depends  entirely  on  the 
definiteness  of  the  thought,  and  is  a  comparatively  rare 
thing.    Contrast  Figs.  1,  2  and  3.    Vague,  dreamy  devo- 

57 


THE   LIFE   AFTER  DEATH 

tion  yields  the  cloudy  mass  of  Fig.  2  and  comparatively 
few  worshippers  show  anything  but  this.  So  the  great 
majority  of  people  when  thinking  send  out  such  clouds 
as  Fig.  6:3  The  creator  of  Fig.  3  knew  just  what  he 
meant,  and  so  did  the  creator  of  Fig.  1.  There  was  no 
drifting,  no  '* wobbling,"  clear,  pure  and  strong  were 
the  thoughts  of  these  devotees.  So  again  the  person 
who  generated  the  form  represented  by  Fig.  4  had  a 
very  clear  and  definite  love  directed  towards  a  specific 
object,  and  the  maker  of  Fig.  7  meant  to  carry  out  the 
thought  there  outlined. 

A  thought  of  love  and  of  desire  to  protect  directed 
strongly  towards  some  beloved  object  creates  a  form 
which  goes  to  the  person  thought  of  and  remains  in  his 
aura  as  a  shielding  and  protecting  agent ;  it  will  seek  all 
opportunities  to  serve ;  and  all  opportunities  to  defend, 
not  by  a  conscious  and  deliberate  action,  but  by  a  blind 
following  out  of  the  impulse  impressed  upon  it,  and  it 
will  strengthen  friendly  forces  that  impinge  on  the  aura 
and  weaken  unfriendly  ones.  Thus  may  we  create  and 
maintain  veritable  guardian  angels  round  those  we  love, 
and  many  a  mother's  prayer  for  a  distant  child  thus 
circles  round  him,  though  she  knows  not  the  method  by 
which  her  *' prayer  is  answered." 


58 


Elementary  Books  on  Theosophy 

The  Riddle  of  Life.     Annie  Besant.     (4  illustrations.) 

The  Life  After  Death.     C  W.  Leadbeater.  (7  illustrations.) 

An  Outline  of  Theosophy.      C.  W.  Leadbeater. 

First  Steps  in  Theosophy.      E.  M.  Mallet.  (5  illustrations.) 

Ancient  Wisdom.      Annie  Besant. 

-^        /  Seven  Principles   of  Man.      Annie  Besant. 

.H  i  1  Re-incarnation.      Annie  Besant. 

•^'rt   )  Karma.      Annie  Besant. 

o  g  (Death — and  After?      Annie  Besant. 

o  rt   J  The  Astral  Plane.       C.  W.  Leadbeater. 
Jb  S  I  The  Devachanic  Plane.     C.  W.  Leadbeater. 
H       \  Man  and  His  Bodies.      Annie  Besant. 
The  Key  to  Theosophy.      H.  P.  Blavatsky. 
Esoteric   Buddhism.        A.  P.  SiNNETT. 
The  Growth  of  the  Soul.     A.  P.  SiNNETT. 
Popular  Lectures  on  Theosophy.     Annie  Besant. 


Books  on  Theosophy  and  Religions 

A  Universal  Text  Book  of  Religion  and  Morals.       Edited 
by  Annie  Besant.    Part  I.  Eeligion,  part  II.  Ethics. 

Fragments  of  a  Faith  Forgotten.        G.   E.   S.   Mead,  B.A. 

Esoteric  Christianity.      Annie  Besant. 

Four  Great  Religions   (Hinduism,  Buddhism,  Zoroastrian- 

ism,  Christianity.)      Annie  Besant. 
The  Christian  Creed.        C.  W,  Leadbeater. 
Did  Jesus  Live  100  years  B.  C-     G.  E.  S.  Mead,  B.A. 
The  Gospel  and  the  Gospels.      G.   E.   S.   Mead,  B.A. 


1 


BOOKS  ON  THEOSOPHY  AND  ITS 
PRACTICAL  APPLICATION 

Thought    Power,    its    Control    and        Evolution   of   Character. 

Culture.  Annie  Besant.  Sarah  Corbett. 

In  the  Outer  Court.    Annie  Besant.        Some  Problems  of  Life. 
The  Path  of  Discipleship.  Annie    Besant 

Annie    Besant        Fragments    of   Thought    and    Life. 

Mabel   Collins. 

BOOKS  ON  THEOSOPHY  AND  THE  INNER  LIFE 

The   Voice   of   the   Silence.  The   Doctrine   of   the    Heart. 

H.   P.   Blavatsky.  Mysticism.     M.   Pope. 

First  Steps  in  Occultism.  The   Bhagavad  Gita. 

H.    P.    Blavatsky.  Trans,    by    Annie    Besant. 

A  Cry  from  Afar.  At  the  Feet  of  the  Master. 

Mabel  Collins.  J.  Krishnamurti. 

Love's   Chaplet.  Mabel   Collins.  Light  on  the  Path.     Mabel  Collins 

A  Crown  of  Asphodels.  One  Life,  One  Law.    Mabel  Collins 
Helen   Bourchier. 

BOOKS    ON    THEOSOPHY    AND    SCIENCE 

Theosophy     and     the     New     Psy-  Nature's  Finer  Forces. 

chology.                     Annie  Besant.  Rama    Prasad. 

The    Physics    of    the    Secret    Doc-  Theosophy    and    Modern    Thought. 

trine.                 William   Kingsland.  C.   Jinarajadasa. 

Scientific   Corroborations   of  Theo-  The   Evolution   of  Life   and  Form. 

Sophy.                     Dr.  A.  Marques.  Annie    Besant 

BOOKS  ON  OCCULTISM 

The   Occult  World.  Thought    Forms.      Annie    Besant 

A.  P.  Sinnett.  and  C.  W.  Leadbeater. 

Hints  on  Esoteric  Theosophy.  The  Way  of  Initiation. 

Anon.  Dr.   Rudolph  Steiner. 

Man    Visible    and    Invisible.  Initiation  and  its  Results. 

C.   W.   Leadbeater.  Dr.  Rudolph  Steiner. 

THEOSOPHY  AND  OCCULTISM  IN  FICTION 

The  Caves  and  Jungles  of  Hindo-        The  Tear  and  the  Smile 

Stan  M.    Charles 

The  Idyll  of  the  White  Lotus  The  Ways  of  Love 

Mabel   Collins  E.   Severs 

The  Lost  Battle.     Michael   Wood. 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  LIFE  SERIES 

No.  1.     The  Riddle  of  Life : 

and  How  Theosophy  Answers  it. 

By  Annie  Besant. 

(With  four  colored  plates.) 

No.  2.     The  Life  After  Death: 

and  How  Theosophy  Unveils  it. 
By  C.  W.  Leadbeater. 
(With  four  colored  plates.) 

No.  3.     Theosophy  and  Social 
Reconstruction. 

By  L.  Haden  Guest, 

M.E.C.S.,  L.E.C.P. 

No.  4.     Theosophy  and  The 

Woman's  Movement. 

By  C.  Despard 

(With  three  Portraits.) 

No.  5.     Natures  Mysteries  : 

and  How  Theosophy  Illuminates  Them. 
By  A.  P.  Sinnett. 
(With  three  Hlustrations.) 

No.  6.     Is  Theosophy  Anti-Christian? 

By  G.  Herbert  Whyte. 
(With  Frontispiece.) 


Each^  25  Cents. 


Works  by 

C.  W.  LEADBEATER 

An  Outline  of  Theosophy 

The  Astral  Plane 

The  Devachanic  Plane,  or  Heaven  World 

The  Other  Side  of  Death 

Clairvoyance 

Dreams 

Invisible  Helpers 

Man,  Visible  and  Invisible 

(With  26  Colored  Plates) 

The  Hidden  Side  of  Things 
Some  Glimpses  of  Occultism 
Starlight 

The  Inner  Life  Vol.     I. 
"       "       "  ..  Vol.  11. 
The  Christian  Creed 
A  Text  Book  of  Theosophy 

ORDER  FROM 

The  Theosophical  Publishing   House 

Keotona 
Hollywood,  Los  Angeles,  Cal. 


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